Dancing With the Devil
by The Blue Raven
Summary: When the government grabs Zin’s second in command, he goes to Cole for help. Cole learns a lesson about dancing with the devil
1. Chapter 1

** Dancing With the Devil**

Summary: When the government grabs Zin's second in command, he goes to Cole for help. Post-"In Sheep's Clothing".

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, but I _should_. They'd have been treated better by certain programming execs and other idiots in charge...

**Author's Note:** Mahalo to Kameka for betaing :) 

**Timeline: **post "Morning After", "Training Day", and "In Sheep's Clothing:

**Feedback: **Better than Fek-Maln. Good, bad, or ugly, input is always welcomed, otherwise how would I know what I'm doing wrong? Please feed me...

**Chapter 1**

"How's Maria?" Mel asked Vic quietly, pouring two fresh drinks.

"Exercising selective amnesia." Vic shrugged. "Right now, she remembers what she wants to, what she thinks makes sense. Probably for the best."

"Usually, yeah," she agreed quietly, rubbing the small of her back.

The gesture was not lost on Vic. "What about you? How you holding up?"

"Hanging in there." She shrugged and glanced to the alcove where Cole was tinkering with the jukebox. "There have been... more good days than bad lately. For both of us."

"I'm glad." He smiled and reached across the bar, squeezing her shoulder. "I've been worried about you."

"You're a good man, Vic," she told him. "Maria's a lucky woman."

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged and sipped at his drink, not looking at her.

"So, how _did_ she take the revelation that you're actually insanely shy?" Mel teased. 

Vic chuckled and shook his head. "What about Cole?" he asked, lowering his voice. "How's he handling things?"

"He's... a very patient man." Mel smiled towards the Cirronian in the alcove. "A lot of men wouldn't put up with me the way I've been lately. Cole understands, like you would. So he waits."

That was not exactly what Vic had meant, but it was good to know that Mel was not feeling any pressure to get on with that particular aspect of her life any faster than she was comfortable with. His instinct told him that the Cirronian was more than capable of tiding himself and Mel both through the aftermath of her abduction. As Cole joined them at the bar with a friendly smile for Vic and a tender one for Mel, Vic felt his instinct was confirmed. If Cole seemed a little more on edge, that was only to be expected. He was bound to be hyper-alert for a little while at least given the circumstances.

When Cole jumped to his feet as the bar door swung open, Vic's first reaction was to suppose that it had been just another startle reaction. Until he saw the man who had just walked in, hands held away from his sides. Mel let out a yelp, backing away as Cole advanced and Vic pulled out his gun.

"Zin," Cole muttered, his Collector in hand as he closed on the Vardian.

"Do it," Zin suggested quietly, lifting both hands. One he pointed in the direction of the human leveling a gun at him. The other, he held in front of Cole's face, palm-forward. "Put us _both_ out of our misery..."

Cole took a step back, pocketing the Collector. "Why have you come here, Zin?"

"Cole!" Mel protested when it became obvious that he had no intention of Collecting the Vardian's life-force.

"It's okay," Cole assured her.

"Like hell it is," Vic protested, struggling to move.

Zin ignored both, focusing squarely on Cole. "You have to help me, Daggon," he whispered, staring up at the Cirronian. "They have Lana." 

"They?" Cole asked, frowning.

"_Their_ government!" Zin spat, waving his hand bitterly towards Vic and Mel.

Mel caught a glint of something metallic embedded in his palm. "Cole, what's going on?" she demanded. "Why don't you just Collect him?"

"He has a suicide-patch, Mel. If his heart stops beating, the resulting explosion would be powerful enough to completely destroy this building." Looking down at Zin, he added, "It would destroy the Collector as well. You'd be killed."

"So, we can play chess and discuss philosophy in Hell." Zin shrugged. "It was a chance I was willing to take under the circumstances. I gambled that you hadn't changed much. I'm glad I was right."

"What do you want from me?"

"If I release the human Detective, is he going to shoot me?" Zin asked absently. "I'm getting a headache."

"Vic, you won't shoot Zin, will you?" Cole asked, half-turning towards the Detective. "You do understand that we would all die if you did that?"

"He may be a scumbag, but his life isn't worth either of yours."

Zin smiled sardonically, waving his hand in Vic's direction with flourish as he released his telekinetic hold. "Smart man, your friend. Almost as smart as that woman of his."

Vic bristled. "How dare you mention Maria, you piece of--"

"Vic! Zin!" Cole snapped. "This is not the time. Zin, why have you come?" 

"I told you, they have Lana!" Zin snapped, pacing the length of the bar. "She was taken during her morning jog in the park by almost a dozen armed men. She fought. Oh, she fought the way only she _can_, but they had tranquilizers and stun-guns and a _cattle-prod_!" He stopped pacing in mid-step, running both hands through his hair, his expression anguished. "Damn it, Daggon, those monsters used a cattle-prod on the child!" he moaned.

Mel's eyes widened. She had never in her life expected to see _Zin_ near tears.

"And you think it's the government?" Cole asked quietly. "But you have your own extraction squads, Zin. Why risk coming to me?"

"Because I don't know anyone else who's managed to get into and most especially _out of_ one of their holding facilities. **_Twice_**."

Vic laughed harshly. "Why the hell would he help _you_?"

Zin snorted. "And here I thought him intelligent." He shook his head and walked to the bar. "May I have a drink, Miss Porter?" he asked, pulling out his wallet.

"Her life-force is intact, isn't it?" Mel asked quietly, shifting uneasily.

Zin nodded shortly. "Intact life-force, no human host. And, more importantly, Vardians are not _half_ the natural mimics that Cirronians are." He shook his head. "There. Now I think we could _all_ use a drink. Well, maybe not Daggon..."

"This could be a very bad thing," Cole murmured, stepping behind the bar and filling three snifters with brandy. He handed one to each of the others before pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

"The good news is that they haven't had her long and she can _not_ be expected to cooperate."

"No, Lana would not," Cole agreed quietly. He looked up at Zin. "I'll help you."

"Cole!" Mel and Vic both protested.

"On one condition," the Cirronian continued, ignoring them. "You promise me that you will no longer try to target Mel or Detective Bruno or Detective Cruz."

"I can't promise that, Daggon, and you know it."

"Fine. Then I will find where they are keeping Lana, go to her, and take her life-force."

"No!" Zin protested. "You _can't_ do that..."

"The Security Council says I can. She's wanted for questioning in the second Sar-Top escape."

Zin shook his head. "Fine. I'll leave your Melanie alone, but the other two..."

"They are no threat to you, Zin."

"They know too much..."

"But they will never expose you. Vic can't without exposing Mel. Detective Cruz can't because she doesn't know."

"No, but she is more than intelligent enough to find out."

"These are my conditions, Zin," Cole said simply. 

"When did you start bargaining like a Vardian?" he sighed, draining his glass of its contents in one long gulp and holding it up to be refilled. "Done. They get in the way of one of my operatives and that's their problem, but I won't send anyone else after them."

"Good." Cole nodded and refilled the glass, ignoring the looks that Mel and Vic were giving him. "Can you tell me where she is being held?"

***

Lana moaned softly, struggling into a sitting position and assessing her situation. She had been heavily drugged and was still sluggish from repeated applications of the cattle-prod. While she had been unconscious, she had been transported somewhere. She was now in a padded room with a large one-way mirror, wearing a straightjacket. Scoffing at that precaution, she struggled to her feet and stared at the viewing glass. There would be an observation room on the other side, and escape beyond that.

_Escape, escape_, the word echoed in her head, bouncing off of the skull of a girl who had spent the first ten years of her life living as a caged animal. _Not again. **Never** again..._

Nodding to herself, she narrowed her eyes, focusing all of her attention on a point near the center of the mirror. Within moments, a fine crack appeared. Pleased, she redoubled her efforts, pushing herself to the limits of her endurance. Less than five minutes after the first crack appeared, the glass shattered. 

Ignoring the straightjacket restraining her and two very startled-looking humans in lab coats sitting in the observation room, Lana dove through the newly-formed hole in the wall, landing on a desk in the observation room. Ignoring her fatigue and disorientation, she started towards the door. Ten seconds and three tranquilizer darts later, her knees buckled. By the time they dragged her away, she was unconscious again.

"What the hell was _that_?" a man in a suit demanded, stalking into the new observation room. This time, she had been moved from a padded cell into a medical exam room. She was heavily restrained and a doctor was prepping an IV. "None of the others ever displayed anything _remotely_ like that..."

Leaning against the doorframe, a woman wearing a lab coat over an air force uniform grinned. "Makes you wonder what else she's capable of, doesn't it, Parker?"

"How many men did it take to bring her down, Kelley?"

"Ten of them. Of whom, _four_ are still alive and not in the hospital. Three are dead, two more had their necks broken, and one is in a coma from head-trauma. It's funny, too. The survivors tell me that, of the four broken necks, she only actually _touched_ one of them. Special forces men trying to take her, her pumped full of enough drugs to drop an elephant, and she still nearly managed to escape." She turned her attention to Lana's unconscious form, her smile widening. "Looks so harmless, doesn't she? The military applications boggle the mind."

"You'd do better to think about the military _implications_. That harmless-looking little waif is a threat to the National Security." 

"Think bigger," she murmured, almost purring the words. "I'll bet fewer than ten thousand of them could take out the planet's entire human population." Glancing up at him, she added, "Humbling, isn't it?"

"That's one word for it." He scowled at her. "You're enjoying this far too much, Doctor."

"What can I say? I enjoy my work." She smiled up at him, turning and striding off.

Parker glanced at the unconscious young woman, frowning. She was a fighter, that much was certain whatever else might have been true of her. She had fought the drugs, fought the men restraining her, fought the very _idea_ of being captive. And when the tranquilizers had overwhelmed to the point where she could not even _fight_ any more, she had screamed. Most of it had not been intelligible. What had been was just disturbing, obviously half dream or memory, unrelated to what had been happening to her at the time.

_Not again! _

Not tonight. Please... I hurt! I still hurt!.

Not tonight. Not tonight. 

Zin! Help me, sir. Help... Help me...

He touched the glass, shaking his head. Harmless-looking she may have been, but she was by no means harmless. Yet she looked to another for protection, called his name in her moment of extremity...

"Zin," he repeated quietly, nodding to himself. 

***

"This is a bad idea on so many levels," Vic muttered to Mel as Cole and Zin whispered together nearby. "How do we know it's not a trick?"

"We don't." Mel shrugged and shook her head. "But we can't risk exposure, either. Lana's going to have a harder time passing for human than the fugitives do. She's not _in_ a human body. She's like Cole; the body's just a façade."

"So on the inside..."

"Two hearts, to start with," Zin informed him, rising and approaching. He sighed softly when Mel took a judicious step backwards, but did not comment. "And a brain divided into four discrete spheres instead of two. But that's not the worst of it." He shook his head. "If she's too weak or in too much pain, she may not be able to hold it together..."

"Hold it together?" Vic repeated.

"He means that she may revert to her Vardian form," Cole clarified, joining them and looping a comforting arm around Mel's waist. "She was not subject to molecular resequencing?"

Zin rolled his eyes. "How could she have been? Those facilities are _all_ controlled by the High Council. It's why so many of our Vardians opted to take human hosts at all," he explained with a shrug, walking to the bar.

"I don't get it," Vic said quietly, shaking his head.

"A resequencer allows a member of one species to take on the physical characteristics of another," Cole explained. 

He frowned. "I thought you could just... _do_ that."

"Cirronians and Vardians can, but no other," he explained. "It takes effort for a Vardian to maintain a human form, a constant telekinetic output to maintain the appropriate conformation. A resequencer allows the transformation to occur and endure without effort."

"It's also substantially less painful," Zin added from the bar.

They ignored him. 

"So she could turn into a Vardian in front of a bunch of government scientists?" Mel asked quietly.

Cole nodded faintly. "We must move quickly to prevent this. According to Zin, she was heavily drugged before they took her. They will already have learned that it is necessary to keep her sedated for their own safety."

"Bastards picked the wrong kid to mess with," Zin contributed. "We may end up rescuing _them_ from _her_."

"Will she display her powers in their presence?" Cole asked.

"She doesn't like being trapped. She'll do everything in her power to try to escape. She won't cooperate, she won't talk, but she _will_ fight."

Cole nodded faintly. The assessment jibed with the girl he remembered. 

"How are we going to get her out?" Vic asked after a moment's silence.

"Zin and I will go."

"Not alone you won't!" Vic protested.

Mel nodded agreement. "Cole, he's right. You can't go off with Zin without backup."

"Miss Porter," Zin said softly, approaching her. When she backed away, he moved forward again until she ran into the bar and could not retreat further. "I know what you think of me and I can't, in all honestly, blame you for it or even really argue with your assessment... But I can assure you that, this once, it is in my best interest _not_ to make any attempts against Daggon. I need him." He shrugged unrepentantly, leaning around her to retrieve his drink.

Vic glared at Zin and Cole stepped forward, gently pulling Mel away from him. "Mel, please go upstairs for a few minutes," Cole requested. "Vic, please go and stay with her."

"Wait a second!" Vic protested. 

"She does not like being alone, Vic. Please go."

"Stay safe," Mel murmured, touching her hand to his heart before turning and starting towards the apartment stairs. "Come on, Vic."

Cole watched them go in silence, then turned his attention to the Vardian. "Do _not_ do that again, Zin," he growled. "You will **_not_** try to intimidate her! I won't allow it!"

"You really do love her, don't you?" Zin asked quietly, regarding him thoughtfully. He nodded sharply. "Good. You deserve to be happy."

"Zin..." Cole began.

"Let's not do this." The Vardian shook his head. "I could say I'm sorry for what I've done, boy, but it would be a lie and we both know it. I _am_ sorry that you had to get hurt, but that's neither here nor there, is it?" He shrugged. "I'll give you this much, though: you make life even more interesting as an adversary than you did as a friend."

"You will leave Mel alone, won't you?"

"Have I ever broken a promise I made to you?" Zin shook his head. "I was sorry to have to involve her in the first place." Sighing, he added, "You should have killed Kaehto for what he did to her. _I_ would have."

"I'm not like you."

"No, you aren't," he agreed. "You never have been. I think it's why we got along so well." He shrugged. "Never did have many friends. Just you and..." He shook his head, his shoulders slumping.

"We'll get her back," Cole promised.

"She's a good kid, Daggon. She really is. I know what people think about us, but..."

"I have never believed those rumors, Zin," Cole told him. "You always treated her like a daughter when I saw you together."

"Thanks," Zin murmured, meaning it. "Look, I need to get home for a few minutes. The others will be wondering where I am."

***

Zin arrived home about the time his wife and mistress were settling down to lunch. Meterand was standing against the dining room wall in a fair approximation of parade rest, observing the two as they ate. He sprang to attention the moment he saw Zin.

Zin rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture. "As you were, Meterand. No, Mara, don't get up," he added as his mistress became aware of his presence and started to rise. 

Etala, predictably, did not even acknowledge him as she picked at her food. She still had not forgiven him for spending almost a year living with Lana on Earth without her knowledge. That she had been arrested for questioning when his plans became common knowledge had not bothered her at all, but she hated Lana with a vengeance. She could forgive Zin a lot of things, but not his friendship with the young scientist. He had long been convinced that her long-standing affair with Meterand was her way of retaliating against Zin for bringing the girl into his house at all.

"Where have you been?" Etala asked without looking up from her copy of Forbes. 

"At a bar getting drunk, wife. What have _you_ been doing all morning?" he inquired smoothly, raising an eyebrow. 

He flicked Meterand a quick look, snorting softly in amusement as the bodyguard shifted uneasily against the wall. Mara suddenly seemed to find her own lap the most interesting thing in the room. Etala looked somewhere between livid and terrified.

"Where _were_ you?" she demanded. 

"At a bar getting drunk," he repeated casually, rising. "I'll be in my quarters if you require anything of me that one of my... _other_ employees can not provide." He glanced at Meterand for a long moment before turning and retreating to his room.

He looked up at a tentative scratching on his door, relieved that it was only Mara. Meterand would not have bothered knocking, and Etala pounded on doors as though her primary purpose was knocking them off of their hinges rather than gaining entry. Trained in discretion, Mara never announced her presence too loudly or overtly. 

"Enter," he called without looking up from the witness statements on Lana's abduction. 

"Sir," she greeted him quietly, closing the door behind her as she entered.

"What's Etala up to?"

"Breaking things again, sir."

"Huh." Zin shook his head. "I really need to stop furnishing her room with crystal figurines, don't I?"

Mara did not answer. "Sir, if you were to... _order_ me to help you recover Doctor Lana--"

Zin laughed, unable to help himself. "You _are_ sharp, aren't you, dear? Neatly avoids the need to take sides in their little spat…" He shook his head. "And if I _were_ to order you?" he prompted.

"I would be gratified by your faith in my talents and would do all in my power to live up to expectation."

"Do you _like_ Lana, Mara?"

"Doctor Lana has been kinder to me than I could have hoped since I entered your service."

"The walls have ears now, do they?" Zin asked, amused by her attempt to remain completely, and _safely_, neutral. She knew when not to stick that lovely long neck of hers out too far. "You know where I've been all morning?"

"I believe so, sir." She nodded.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Afraid," she admitted quietly. "Lana and Etala both say the Tracker is a fanatic." 

"And if _they_ agree on a point, it must be so, hmm?" Zin asked, smiling faintly. "How would you feel about working with him?"

"I…" She eyed him with momentary trepidation before biting her lower lip and lifting her chin defiantly. "He will not harm me with you there to protect me."

"Brave girl. Get your coat."

"It's not that cold."

"_Get your coat_," he repeated more firmly. "You're just getting over a head cold and I don't want you out in this wind without some buffer. Go," he ordered. 

"Yes, sir." She nodded and left.

Zin sighed and stared down at the chip embedded in his palm, rubbing it absently. He had only gotten it at all at Lana's insistence and its possession alone could have earned him a life's term on Sar-Top. Of course, as Lana had blithely pointed out, he was _already_ facing one of those.

"In for a penny in for the full balance," he sighed, rising and retrieving his jacket. 

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lana stirred, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Movement was difficult and it did not take her long to realize that she was restrained more completely than she had been before. She opened her eyes, scanning the room. Medical monitors. An IV feeding sedatives into her bloodstream. Medical equipment. Cameras. An armed guard. She reached for him mentally, scowling as she realized that the drugs left her too weak for telekinesis.

Nothing could ever be easy...

She turned her head to look at the guard, her mind working quickly in spite of the medication. He was young, not more than twenty-five, and therefore potentially quite impressionable.

"Please, may I... may I have some water?" she asked, pleased when her voice shook of its own accord. Yes, let him think her weak and frightened. "My throat is so sore..." she added plaintively. "And my head hurts!" she added, sniffling and forcing several tears by biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"I'll get the doctor," he began.

"No, please!" she whimpered, shaking her head frantically. "Please, _don't_... They'll hurt me again!"

She bit back a smile at his alarmed and angry look. Almost too easy to begin to win one's trust. If eight years as a child prostitute had taught her one thing, it was that most men were easy to manipulate. They tended to have a weakness for young and 'defenseless' females.

"Why am I here?" she asked abruptly. "What do you _want_ with me?"

"Hey, I was just told to stand guard..." he said, holding up his hands. "I have no clue why you're here..."

"Please, may I have a drink?" Lana asked again, her voice tremulous. "I'm _so_ thirsty..."

"Uh..." He hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure. Hang on," he murmured, walking to the sink and pouring a glass of water. He found a straw and carried both over to her bed. "Here, take small sips so you don't choke on it," he said, putting the straw between her lips. "What'd you do anyway?" he asked as she sipped at the water.

"I don't know," she moaned, letting a few more tears trail down her cheeks. "I was out jogging and all these men came at me and..." She trailed off, sniffling. "I'm scared," she whispered, biting her tongue again.

"Oh, come on, sweetie, don't cry," he urged gently, shaking his head uncertainly. "I'm sure you're going to be just fine..."

"Dad must be so worried," she whispered, staring up at him. "What's he going to do without me?" More tears and a few sobs followed her words. "I'm all he has left since mama died! He must be so worried..."

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered, staring down at her with wide eyes. 

He had joined the military to _help_ people, not to abduct and terrorize teenaged girls. No one had told him _why_ this particular young lady was so dangerous, but he could not think of anything that might justify the way she was being treated.

"He must be so worried," she repeated quietly, staring up at him with wide doe-eyes. She could almost feel his resolve crumbling. "It would be different," she began slowly, "if he _knew_ that I was okay. He wouldn't worry so much..."

"I don't..." he began, shaking his head. He straightened as two men in lab coats entered. "Doctors," he greeted them, turning away from Lana.

"Get away from her, Reed!" one of them snapped. "We told you she was dangerous!"

"She was thirsty. I just thought..."

"You mean you _didn't_ think!" he interrupted, shaking his head and none-too-politely shoving Reed away from the bed.

Lana could tell that the young Airman was unhappy with this development and she took the opportunity to advance her own case with him. "Let me go!" she cried, struggling against the restraints. "What'd I do? What do you want with me? Please, let me go! I didn't _do_ anything! For the love of God!" 

She continued crying and pleading until the Doctor injected something into her IV, then she went limp, panting. 

"You, Reed, stay here and don't go near her again," he ordered, turning and leaving. 

"They don't want me making friends," Lana said dully after the other had left as well. "You might start feeling sorry for me."

"I'm _already_ sorry for you..."

"I'm scared. And I'm worried about my Dad."

"What's your name?" 

"Lana. My name's Lana." She closed her eyes, pleased. She was almost there.

"What about your father?"

"Julius. His name is Julius," she whispered, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Can you call him. Just let him know that I'm okay? Then he won't have to worry. The doctor says that he shouldn't worry. His heart..."

He hesitated, exhaling deeply. "I could get court-martialed for even _talking _to you..."

"You don't have to any more. I understand. But... Daddy..." She forced more tears and fixed him with a pleading stare. "I'm not asking you to tell him anything except that I'm safe. That can't hurt anyone..."

"No, I guess not," he agreed quietly, nodding. "What's his phone-number?"

"Thank you, thank you," Lana whispered, smiling tremulously up at him. 

She quickly reeled off the number to Zin's private line. It would take Zin's people less than thirty seconds to trace any phone-call to that number, and then they would know where to find her. Or, at the very least, where to find a man who knew where she was being held...

"As soon as I'm relieved, I'll call him," he promised, hurrying back to the door at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. "Don't worry, Lana. It's going to be okay."

Lana closed her eyes and nodded, content with the knowledge that he was right. She opened them again as more soldiers joined them in the room. 

"Dismissed, Reed," one with a Lieutenant's bars told him.

"But, sir..."

"Dismissed!" he repeated more firmly. "You were ordered not to speak with her or go near her. You're lucky you're not in the brig. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," he muttered, saluting brusquely before turning and leaving.

"Webster, Perkins, Klein, the same orders go for the three of you. You are not to talk to her, approach her, or respond to her in any way. No one of you is to be alone in this room with her for _any_ length of time, no matter how brief. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the three MPs answered in unison.

"Good." Nodding sharply, he left.

"What'd she do?" Perkins asked.

"I don't know and I don't care," Klein answered. "Lieutenant says 'national security' and that's _all_ I need to know. You, too."

"She looks harmless."

"They always do," Webster contributed quietly, leaning against the wall. 

Intelligent, that one, Lana reflected, closing her eyes and trying to rest. She was too tired and weak to do much else. With luck, Reed would get in touch with Zin and she would be able to rest in her own bed by nightfall. 

***

"Who's your friend?" Mel asked when they arrived at the park where Lana had been jogging.

"Her name is Mara. She's helping."

"That wasn't part of the deal!" Vic protested.

"It is now," Zin told him. "Scientists and school teachers aren't exactly known for their ability to storm secure facilities, Detective. Mara has extraction training."

"From which academy?" Cole asked, eyeing the young woman curiously. She did not have the feel of a member of the warrior caste.

"Tlaloc, sir," Mara answered at a gesture from Zin. "As a Skimmer." Glancing at Zin for permission, she added, "I took top marks in stealth and speed and earned my certification in urban skirmishing."

Cole nodded faintly. "Okay."

"You sure?" Mel asked dubiously.

"Her expertise will be very helpful, Mel."

"I don't like this," she grumbled, but conceded with a nod.

Vic scowled at Zin but remained silent.

"I don't know your name from the Sar-Top logs," Cole told Mara. "Which line do you belong to?"

"In other words, how did her family afford to sponsor her into Tlaloc?" Zin asked, raising an eyebrow. "Too much time with the humans, boy. You're starting to develop a sense of subtlety." 

"Doctor Zin was kind enough to sponsor my admission," Mara explained, smiling at him with overt gratitude. "I am... not of a warrior caste," she admitted.

"She's of Lana's line," Zin clarified. "My mistress."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "It must have been difficult to forge identity papers for her."

"When have I ever said no to a challenge? To business, then? Mara?"

"Doctor Lana is in the habit of running five miles in the morning. Weather allowing, she does this outside, as today. The ambush was there," she said, pointing down the slight rise they were standing on to a curve in the trail. "Witnesses report that the men who assailed her were dressed in black, wearing gloves and ski-masks. They were not wearing uniforms, but their weapons were undeniably of military issue."

"Professional job," Vic murmured, nodding faintly and getting into his crime-scene mindset. "How many?"

"Estimates range from half a dozen to fully a dozen," Mara answered. "With between four and seven falling to Lana before she was taken, there reasonably must have been closer to a dozen."

"She took out a half-dozen of these guys?" Mel asked, incredulous. "But she's tiny!"

Zin smiled faintly, shaking his head. "What do you know? Guess size isn't that important after all…"

Mara nodded faintly, contributing, "Doctor Lana is quite powerful, even for a Vardian. They'll know now to keep her heavily sedated. It could make extraction more difficult."

Zin's smile faded at her words. "She doesn't have the constitution to stand repeated high doses of most medications. Mara, call Neko."

"Yes, sir." She fell back a step and pulled a cell-phone out of her pocket, dialing quickly.

Zin watched her with a faintly troubled expression for a moment before turning his attention to Cole. "Have you found a probable holding-location yet?"

"No." He shook his head faintly. "What about you?"

"None of my sources know a thing. We're still looking, though."

"We must move quickly," Cole said. "There is much they can learn from her through simple observation."

"The less time they have with her the better," Mel agreed, nodding.

"For once we seem to be in accord," Zin sighed. "If I know her, she'll get herself killed trying to escape. One way or another…" He shook his head. "Daggon, any luck tracing her energy signature?"

He shook his head. "There are many Vardians in this area."

"Right now, I'm only interested in _one_. Time is everything, Daggon. If those monsters cut her apart--"

Mel laughed at Zin applying the term 'monster' to anyone else. 

The Vardian scowled at her. "She's a _child_!" he snapped. "And right now she is weak and alone…" He shook his head faintly, trailing off. "We have to find her."

"He's right, Mel," Vic said. "I may not like having to work with him, but I like the idea of the government knowing about you guys a lot less. What's to keep her from selling you out to buy her own life?"

"Nothing at all," Zin told Vic quietly. "Mara, dear?" he asked as she returned to his side.

"Neko is less than optimistic, sir. Lana's health has always been questionable and there is substantial strain engendered in the sort of attack she endured. Sedation will only aggravate this. He urges us to make all haste in her recovery and he will have the infirmary standing by."

"Good girl. See to the arrangements."

"Yes, sir." She saluted sharply and turned to leave.

"Mara," he murmured, catching her arm. 

"Sir?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her gently. "I appreciate your help."

"All in your service," she murmured, bowing her head and giving him a reassuring look. "We'll bring her home," she promised, turning and jogging off.

"She seems very devoted to you," Cole noted quietly.

"Lana's choice," Zin told him. "The girl always went out of her way to make me happy..." He sighed softly. "We can't let them cut her open, Daggon."

"We won't," Cole promised, patting his shoulder. "Come on. I want to run another scan..."

"Of course. You're right," Zin agreed, nodding. "I must go home for a few minutes. I'll meet you back at the Watchfire as soon as I'm done there."

"We'll be waiting for you," Cole assured him. He glanced at Mel and Vic who were eyeing Zin suspiciously. "Let's go," he called to them.

"Cole, are you sure this is a good idea?" Mel murmured as Zin turned and walked off.

"We don't have a choice, Mel. If they knew, _really_ knew..."

"They'd mobilize, I know," Mel sighed, nodding and leaning into his arm. "Let's get home. I need a drink."

***

"Where is my wife?" Zin asked the guard as he entered the mansion.

"Her room, sir."

"Thank you." Zin nodded sharply and started in that direction.

"Sir," the guard began, his voice anxious.

"Yes?" Zin asked, smiling benignly at him.

"She... left orders not to be disturbed."

"I'm sure she did," Zin murmured, shaking his head and stalking across the foyer towards the living quarters.

Etala was, predictably, not alone. 

"_Get **off** of my wife!_" he snarled at Meterand, telekinetically throwing him from the bed. 

Meterand lay on the floor, panting and struggling to compose himself. Unarmed and naked, he was acutely aware of his vulnerability.

"Get out," Zin ordered, grabbing a robe and tossing it on top of him. "I need to have a word with this faithless whore." 

Meterand stared at him with wide eyes for a split-second before scooping up the robe and scrambling from the room. 

"Zin, I can--" Etala began.

"Spare me," he suggested bitterly. "You think I'm blind? Stupid?" he demanded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You think it's been lost on me that the girls all have _white fur_ around their muzzles? That the trait exists in _neither_ of our lines?" He shook his head. "I'm no one's fool, Etala."

"I..."

"Shut up," he suggested. "You're allowed as many affairs as you want, but foisting another man's children on me is criminal and you know it. You could lose _everything_."

"Only if you accuse me," she whispered, bowing her head. 

"Which you know I won't. It doesn't matter," he assured her. "That isn't why I'm here. I love you. I love Meterand. I love the girls more than both of you together... My only question is where they're keeping Lana."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You've been trying to put the child out of the way for years now. This must be a _sweet_ moment for you. Hmm?"

"I didn't turn the slut in to the humans, Zin," Etala scoffed, shaking her head. "Your sentiment blinds you!"

"It wouldn't be the first time. I married _you_, after all."

She narrowed her eyes. "We _both_ know that had less to do with love than politics." 

Zin laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Were you involved in her apprehension?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"You sure about that?"

"Could I reveal her without also revealing the father of my children?"

"_Which_ father? Which children?" He shook his head and rose. "You'd never hurt Meterand, I'm sure, but your hatred for Lana is well-known. If I find that you had a part in this, I _will_ accuse the two of you openly."

"No, you won't," she said, scowling at him. "You love the girls too much. They'd suffer, too."

"Mmm, so they would." Zin nodded faintly, knowing that she knew him too well to believe for a second that he would do anything to harm any of her children. "Heard from them recently?" he asked lightly.

"Three days ago. You received a copy of their letter."

"Yes, I did." Zin nodded faintly. "Nally's growing up so fast, isn't she?"

"She is," Etala agreed quietly, frowning at his tone.

"When she comes of age, if Lana has graced our estate with a boy child, they will be married," he told her, rising.

"No!" Etala snapped, jumping to her feet. "No daughter of mine will wed the son of a common prostitute!" 

"Won't she?" Zin asked, raising an eyebrow. "How will you stop such a match?" he asked, smiling faintly.

"You son of a--"

"Say it," Zin suggested, shaking his head. "Say it, wife. Give me some _excuse_ to retaliate."

She stood in silence, glaring at him.

"What you are, of course, most worried about, is that a son of Lana's might also be a son of mine. Isn't that right?" he asked, grinning at her. "Which, of course, raises a number of disturbing possibilities when marriage to one of _your_ daughters is considered..." His smile widened as he continued. "Contest it if you will. Call the match incest. We both know it would not be. And, if you should chose to fight me in the matter, the _entire_ Migar Alliance will know as well."

"I hate you," she breathed. 

"That is, of course, your right," Zin agreed easily. "But let us not forget that _you_ started this all. Twelve years now you've been cuckolding me, Etala. You've fathered not one but _three_ of another man's children on me. I would be perfectly within my rights to have you publicly disgraced." Shaking his head, he turned to leave. "Your next child had _better_ be mine," he added as he slipped from the room.

Etala snarled in frustration and a nearby vase shattering under the force of her anger.

***

"Ah, there you are!" Zin called expansively as he entered the bedroom.

"Sir, I can--"

"Spare me, Meterand," Zin suggested, shaking his head. "I've just come from a pleasant discussion with my wife and now I wish to have a few words with my best friend."

Meterand gave a shaky nod and reached for his clothes.

"Don't bother. I'm sure Etala will have need of your services soon."

"Sir, I..."

"Love her, of course. She loves you, too." Zin shrugged. "Neither here nor there, really. You _both_ hate Lana."

"I don't--"

"_Don't_ you?" Zin asked, raising an eyebrow. "As I recall, you used to take malicious pleasure in terrorizing the child." 

"That was..."

"Simply because Etala disliked her, of course. Etala _still_ hates her, Meterand, and so you must as well, by necessity." Zin shook his head. "Did you have a part in this?"

"What kind of question is that?" Meterand demanded, scowling at him.

"An honest one." Zin shrugged. "I thought perhaps Lana's capture was of Etala's contrivance." 

Meterand shook his head. "No, Zin. She hates the girl, yes, but she's no fool. She understands what's at stake."

Zin eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, nodding faintly. "Good. Because this is deadly serious. We can not succeed in this without her and _you_ are wise enough to know it."

"I know. There's no love lost between us, but... she remains useful."

"Yes, she does. You'll do well not to forget it, too." Zin sighed, shaking his head. "I love all three of you. Why must you put me in a position where I have to take sides?"

"Sir, I--"

Zin shook his head, cutting Meterand off. "Don't."

"Etala thinks you went to the Tracker for help."

"Etala is a perceptive woman," Zin pointed out. He sighed and approached the other Vardian. "No more children, Meterand. I mean it. You understand?"

"Yes, sir." He bowed his head. "You did go to the Tracker, didn't you?"

"Who else?"

"I--"

"Hush." Zin shook his head. "Etala is, no doubt, in need of your comfort. Go to her," he advised, turning and leaving the room. 

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Zin sighed faintly, looking around the study. It seemed empty without Lana's efficient presence. The girl was more trouble than she was worth and he knew it. His wife hated her, his best friend hated her, most of his employees hated her... And _he_ needed her. That she needed him as well was neither here nor there. He had almost no hope of success without Lana by his side, coordinating every aspect of his operation on Earth. It was not the only reason he wanted her back, not even the _main_ one, but it was something he could tell himself. And the others. 

He jumped as his personal phone rang, startled. Very few people had the number and most of them were in the house with him. Lana was the other.

"Hello?" he asked in a shaky voice, picking up the phone. All calls to this line were automatically recorded and traced. She knew it, too. "_Lana?_"

"Uh... is this Julius?" a male voice whispered.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"No one. Uh... your daughter, Lana, she wanted me to call you."

_Lana._ He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Where is she?"

"I... she's safe. She wanted you to know that she was safe. She wanted me to tell you." 

"Where **_is_** she?" he demanded. "What do you want with her?"

"I... She just didn't want you to worry."

"Please!" Zin whispered harshly. "Tell me where she is. I can pay..."

"I... They don't want money."

Zin glanced down at the second-hand his watch. "Is she hurt?"

"No. She... They..."

Thirty seconds. "What did she say?" he asked.

"Just that she didn't want you to worry. She said she was all you had left..."

"She is," he agreed quietly. In many ways, it was the truth. "Is she in danger? Is she in pain?"

"I..." There was a long pause and then, "I have to go now."

Zin cursed as the line went dead. He punched his intercom. "I need to know where the most recent call to my line originated!"

"One moment, sir," his secretary said. 

Zin sank into his chair, closing his eyes. "That's my smart girl," he whispered weakly. "Clever Lana. Good girl. Good girl..."

***

Uneasy silence settled over the bar about the time that Mara arrived there. Mel and Vic had long since given up trying to convince Cole that it was folly to trust Zin. The Cirronian stood firm that the stakes were too high to do anything _but_ help him. Lana might have been dangerous, Zin might have been completely untrustworthy, but Cole and Mel could not afford to be exposed either.

Mara ignored the silence and settled down at the bar, nursing a drink as she waited for Zin.

"So you, uh... you're Zin's mistress, huh?" Vic asked, trying to sound conversational but failing miserably. What, after all, _did_ one say to the mistress of an intergalactic crime-boss?

"I am," she agreed quietly, not looking up from her drink. 

"Ah..." Vic nodded faintly, shifting uneasily. "How's that work?"

"He buys out my contract, granting him the exclusive use of my services and I serve him sexually as well as in a number of domestic capacities for the duration."

"Romantic," Vic muttered, rising and walking over to Mel. "Hey, sweetie. How you holding up?"

"I've been better," Mel admitted, staring at Mara. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms, shaking her head. "I just pray that Cole knows what he's doing." 

"So do I," Vic murmured, squeezing her shoulder. 

"I know he's right. I know it's dangerous for the government to have an alien in their hands. But..." She shook her head again.

"I know, Mel." Vic glanced towards the apartment stairwell. "I know, sweetie."

Mel closed her eyes, nodding faintly. "This is insane, Vic, this whole thing..."

"Life's an insane thing," he pointed out quietly. "I came to appreciate that one just recently."

Mel could not help but smile at his wry tone. "I trust him, Vic. I do. But... I still worry, you know?"

"Oh, yeah. _That_ I can understand." He sighed and pulled her into a loose hug. 

"Cole says... he says that Zin loves Lana like a daughter, that he'd do anything to keep her safe." 

"So he must be on the up and up if he's appealing to Cole in her name?"

Mel nodded faintly. "That's what he thinks, yeah."

"Here's hoping." Vic smiled reassuringly at her. "Hang in there, sweetie. We'll get through this."

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Want to go talk to him?" Vic offered. "Isabel should be here soon. I can watch the bar until then." Which roughly translated into watching Mara like a hawk, one hand firmly on his sidearm.

"Thank you, Vic," Mel murmured, giving him a quick squeeze and hurrying up the stairs.

Vic sighed softly and sat down at the bar again, retrieving his drink. He needed one with everything that was going on lately. He looked up as he became aware that Mara was staring at him.

"What?" he asked, shifting uneasily.

"I am simply attempting to ascertain why Lana respects you," she answered, shrugging. "There aren't many, you know."

Vic blinked at her words. 

"You must be uncommonly powerful and intelligent for a human," Mara concluded, shrugging and returning her attention to her drink. "And that partner of yours..."

"You leave her out of it!" Vic snapped, rising.

"What is she to you?" Mara asked curiously, glancing up at him, obviously unintimidated. "Do you love her?"

"Do you people even _have_ love?" he asked in disgust. 

"Zin loves Lana. He loves his wife and children."

"If he loves his wife, what's he need with you?" Vic scoffed.

Mara shook her head, her expression faintly contemptuous. "I'm a _prostitute_, Detective. I'd say it should be fairly obvious what Doctor Zin requires of me."

Vic stared at her with wide eyes as she lapsed into silence again. It was always faintly disturbing to him that anyone could be so cavalier about something as intimate and personal as sex. Admittedly, he had seen many people with such attitudes over the course of his career, but it was still jarring to him. Perhaps even more so now that he had found Maria. Shaking his head, he fell silent, studiously ignoring the Vardian woman.

***

"Hello, Mel," Cole greeted her easily as she walked into the war-room. Smiling, he rose and moved to stand before her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Is Vic downstairs?"

She nodded. "Someone had to keep an eye on Zin's... friend." 

Cole smiled faintly at Mel's wording, nodding. "Did you need something, Mel?"

"Reassurance would be nice," she muttered, shaking her head. "This is... it's insane, Cole!"

"My love," he murmured, giving her throat a reassuring caress. "Please be calm."

"How can I be calm?" she asked quietly, shaking her head. "He comes here like this..."

"I know, Mel," he whispered, nodding. "I know. It is... I do not like to be reminded of how exposed we are, either. But in this case, we _must_ help him."

"Let them dissect her, Cole!" Mel protested, shaking her head. "If she really won't talk like Zin says, she sure as hell won't mention you. We'll be _safe_..."

"Do you honestly believe that, Taushi?" he asked gently.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "God, Cole, I'm just so... this can't be happening." She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. 

"My love, my soul," Cole whispered, gathering her into his arms and steering her into the bedroom. "I know you're upset. I know you're afraid. I am, as well, Mel, but..." He shook his head, gently pushing her to sit on the bed and moving to sit next to her. "Zin has promised me that he will not make any more direct attempts against you or Vic or Detective Cruz if we help him. For this reason alone, I _have_ to..."

"You can't honestly believe he'll keep his word," she protested.

"In this, he will. Where Lana is concerned, he has to," Cole promised, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

"It isn't your responsibility to keep us safe," she whispered. "You don't have to do this."

"I _do_ have to. And it _is_ my responsibility. Zin would never have noticed any of you if not for me."

"That isn't true," she said, shaking her head.

"It _feels_ true." He closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of her head. "I have to do this, Mel. I don't have a choice," he apologized. "But I will not involve you or Vic further."

"No!" She shook her head violently. "You can't do this without backup!"

"Mel, this is not safe," Cole protested, shaking his head. "I know I have been training you, but this is _different_. You must know that. These are your own people, not fugitives. Your Collector will be of no use and they will not hesitate to take your life."

"Or yours," she muttered. "Come on, Cole. You can't go this alone..."

He hesitated for a long moment, sighing. "We must keep Vic and Detective Cruz safe," he announced finally.

"Agreed," Mel murmured, nodding. "Vic can't be involved in this any farther."

"And you--"

"I will stand by my husband," she told him firmly, glaring at him and daring him to contradict her.

"I... I can't lose you, Mel," he whispered. Although there had never been a ceremony, although there was not even a legal contract between them, it did not change what they were to each other. The night their bodies and souls had joined, he had become her husband, and she his wife.

"You won't," she promised. "We'll get through this."

"I know, Mel." He smiled down at her. "We should go downstairs." 

"Good idea. Poor Vic didn't look that comfortable with Mara." 

"She is probably harmless, Mel." 

"_Probably?_" Mel repeated, shaking her head and starting down the hall. 

"She does not behave like a violent woman."

"Yeah, and Zin doesn't behave like a violent man," she pointed out as they emerged into the bar. "Hey, Vic," she called, gesturing for him to join them. 

Vic immediately rose and hurried over to them. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

"Does anyone know what Zin looks like?" Mel asked. "The last thing I need a cop seeing him in my bar..." 

"No, no one knows what he looks like." Vic gave a short shake of his head. "Which is just as well."

"It's a cop bar and it'll always be a cop bar," Mel murmured. She had long since come to accept that fact. After almost a year of resisting the fact, she had come to accept it. It was even vaguely comforting. 

"Actually, I was thinking more about Mar's habit of coming here when she can't find me anywhere else."

"Oh, right..." Mel winced. "We definitely can't let her see Zin."

"She won't know it's him. He may know her, but she doesn't know him," Vic murmured. "I'm down with keeping them separate, but I don't think we have to worry about her making him if we can't." 

"I hope not."

"_You_ hope not?" Vic asked, shaking his head. "You're not the one she loves giving the third degree."

"I'm sure a big boy like you can handle her," Mel teased.

"Yeah. Lots of men make that mistake. But never twice." 

"Vic, Cole and I don't think you should be involved in this."

"Mel--" he began to protest.

"Vic, listen to me," Cole said quietly. "This is for your safety and for that of Detective Cruz. You must understand what a dangerous situation this is."

"I do. Which is why I don't want you two going it alone."

"You should not be in a position where you might have to fight your own people," Cole said quietly. "Especially not in this. You will be at an extreme disadvantage."

"Not to mention the fact that you and Maria have been investigating Zin for more than a year now," Mel pointed out. "This is a _huge_ conflict of interests."

"I'm up to my elbows in conflicts of interest, here, Mel," he pointed out gently. 

"This is different and you know it." She shook her head. "Vic, please... We'll keep you posted, but I don't think it should go any farther than that."

"She's right, Vic," Cole added. "If you help us, you will be in more danger from your own people than from the fugitives."

Vic sighed in annoyance, staring from one to the other. They were obviously serious about this. "Fine, but I want you guys to keep me in the loop on this. And any help I can give you on my end..."

"Thank you, Vic," Mel whispered, standing on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "We just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, sweetie," he whispered, hugging her. He closed his eyes when she tensed at the unexpected contact, quickly releasing her. "Sorry..."

"No, Vic." Mel shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just..."

"I know a few good therapists who work with Victim's Assistance sometimes," he began.

"I am _not_ a victim," Mel said firmly. "And I don't need a therapist."

"Mar wanted me to give you this number," Vic said quietly, handing her a business card. "Just in case... Mar says she's good."

"Very good," Maria agreed, stepping into the alcove and causing all three to jump. "Just think about it, Melanie. This can't be an easy time for you and talking to someone _does_ help."

"I have people I can talk to," she said softly. More importantly, she had people she could talk to that she did not have to censor every word around.

"Yes, you do. You've been blessed with some very good friends in that regard." Maria smiled faintly at her. "How are you holding up?" she asked gently.

"I'm hanging in there." Mel shrugged. "Should Cole and I give you two some privacy?" she offered. 

"What for?" Maria asked. "I don't plan on doing anything to him that requires privacy until I've had at least a _few_ drinks..."

Vic chuckled and shook his head. "Mar..."

"Sorry, Vicky. Am I embarrassing you in front of your friends again?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

"_Vicky_?" Mel repeated, staring at him with wide eyes. Vicky?

"Thank you, Mar," Vic sighed, grimacing and shaking his head. "So how was work?"

"Well, I successfully resisted the urge to shoot Johansen with his own service weapon..."

Vic made a face. "What did he do this time?"

"Buy me a drink and I'll tell you all about it," she sighed, taking his arm and tugging him towards the bar. 

"Maybe you _should_ talk to someone, Mel," Cole suggested quietly when they were alone.

"And tell them what?" she asked, frowning up at him. "How the mean alien tried to invade my body with his soul?" She shook her head. "Not even if I _felt_ like talking about it," she muttered, turning and walking to the bar.

"Oh, the old single-malt," Maria said with a smile as Isabel poured. "Bless you, Victor Dominic Bruno. You are a _saint_. Thanks, dear," she added to Isabel. "Could I get a coffee stirrer, too?"

"Uh... sure." Isabel nodded and handed her one, her expression bemused.

"What are you going to do with that?" Vic asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maria shrugged and absently dipped it into her scotch, transferring a drop from the stirrer to the tip of her tongue. "Mmm," she sighed, smiling. 

"Okay," Vic said, shrugging and sipping his beer. "You were going to tell me about work?"

"Johansen's an incompetent prick. You need to hear more?"

"He's not giving you a hard time again, is he?" Vic asked, frowning. 

Johansen had a serious problem with the idea of females in law enforcement. It was one prejudice of many that made Vic amazed that the Captain had put him with Maria. She would have had a far easier time with Vic's new partner, a young female rookie who could have benefited from Maria's shining example. 

"Oh, he learned _that_ lesson within the first three days," Maria assured him, transferring a few more drops of her drink onto her tongue. "How's Jefferson holding up?" 

"Poor kid's ready to quit." He shook his head, sighing. "She tries so hard, Mar. It's like she thinks she has something to prove to someone."

"She _does_, Vicky," Maria answered, shrugging. "She's the youngest person in the department, she's female, she's _black_..." Maria shook her head. "Ten to one, she's already heard some smart-ass comments from Johansen about at least two of those three facts."

"Now _I_ feel like shooting him," Vic sighed, shaking his head. "She has the makings of a great Detective, Mar, but her lack of self-confidence is making her crazy." 

"And you, too, I'll bet..."

He shrugged. "I do my best not to let it show."

"For which I'm sure she's grateful." Maria shook her head and patted his shoulder. "Send her by my office tomorrow. I'll talk to her. And if you don't mind, I'll make sure to mention that you think she has the makings of a pro."

"You think it'll help?"

"I know a thing or two about what it's like to be a female minority working amongst the good old boys. I'll screw her head on straight," Maria promised. 

"I'd appreciate it, babe."

"Mmm, and how will you reward me once I've helped you out on this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Name your price," Vic answered with a wink. 

"Karaoke it is, then," she said, grinning.

Vic groaned and shook his head, lapsing into silence and watching Maria as she continued to consume her drink one drop at a time off the tip of the coffee stirrer, her expression distant. It was one way to enjoy good scotch, he supposed...

He looked up as Zin bustled into the bar, making a bee-line for Mara. Maria was too absorbed in her drink to notice, even when Mel and Cole both started in that direction. Vic strained his ears, not wanting to rise and alert Maria, but Zin was whispering to Mara. He could see the look on the Vardian man's face, a combination of fear and triumph as he spoke quickly to Mara, smoothing back her hair and giving her throat a squeeze. He repeated both motions several more times before kissing her cheek and helping her to her feet, sending her on her way with a pat on the shoulder. 

He watched her go before turning his attention to Mel and Cole, leaning towards them and speaking quickly. Vic could sense the tension even halfway across the bar. After a few moments, Cole and Zin retired upstairs and Mel gave Vic a significant look. At his slight nod, she turned and walked in the direction of the hallway leading to the payphones and bathrooms, as close to private as you could get downstairs. You at least always knew if someone was coming.

"Right back, Mar," Vic murmured, rising. "Got to hit the little Detective's room."

"Next time don't drink your beer so fast," she suggested absently before returning complete attention to her drink. 

Vic watched for a moment, fascinated by the careful way she transferred her scotch, drop by drop, onto the tip of her tongue, clearly savoring the flavor of each, almost reveling in the taste. He had never seen _anyone_ consume a drink quite like that before. Nor had he ever noticed quite how long her tongue was... Shaking his head, he went to join Mel.

Maria was so consumed in enjoying her drink, which was definitely one of the richest and most complex scotches she had ever tasted, that it took her a few moments to realize that her phone was ringing. When she did realize it, she cursed softly, seriously considering ignoring it after the day she had just had. 

Shaking her head, she answered with a growled, "This had better be good, Johansen..." 

"He's at it _again_?"

"Oh, Miguel. Sorry." Maria shook her head. "Long day."

"I wouldn't bother you, but you said you wanted the Brandon autopsy as soon as I was done."

Maria glanced after Vic, shifting and lowering her voice. "What about Susan?"

"I have her report, too, if you really want it, but it reads just like the others."

"And Brandon?"

"Can you come in?"

"I'm on my way," she answered without hesitation. "Thanks, Miguel." She hung up, sighing and draining her glass before rising. 

She reached Mel and Vic in time to hear Mel say "...getting the schematics now."

"Mar," Vic greeted her, trying and failing to look innocent.

Maria chose to ignore their guilty expressions. "I hate to have to do this, but something came up with one of my cases. I really need to take off."

"Oh, okay," Vic said, nodding faintly. "Everything okay?"

"Should be, yeah." She gave a short nod of her own, wondering if that was relief in his expression. "I'll be back in a few hours," she promised, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. 

"I'll be waiting," he promised, hugging her. Watching her go, he shook his head. "You think she heard that?"

Mel shrugged faintly. "Let's just say that I'm glad that Zin's name didn't come up..."

"Amen to that," Vic sighed. "Let's go upstairs." 

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"What do you have for me?" Maria asked without preamble as she walked into the morgue. 

"More weird shit," Miguel answered with uncharacteristic bluntness and obvious irritation. "This weirder than most..."

"Oh, come on, Miguel. You _love_ challenges. So what crawled up your--"

"Bureau's asking questions. _Lots_ of them."

"About Brandon?" 

"Him and others who may have similar causes of death, yeah."

She cursed softly. 

"So, who had this month in the pool for them finally wising up?"

"Mitch, I think..." She shook her head faintly. "Doesn't matter. What did you tell them?"

"I told them the truth. It looks like he was beaten to death with a sledge-hammer and I haven't seen anything similar in a few years." Miguel shrugged, his expression innocent. 

"You're not playing ball," she whispered, startled. "Miguel, these are the _Feds_. Why would you lie to them?"

He shrugged again. "Honestly? Because the Feds in question spooked me more than a little." He shook his head. "I don't know, Maria. Why haven't you or Vic or Mitch or any of the other Detectives who've noticed this trend gone to them?"

"That's different. They wouldn't have believed us. You of all people know that."

"Yeah." He nodded faintly. "I know. That's why I'm a little leery of these guys. They walked in here asking _all_ the right questions..."

She frowned. If they knew _all_ the questions, they were already a step ahead of Maria and the other police officers who had started to notice the disturbing new trend in homicides and unexplained deaths. Normal, law-abiding citizens were behaving in decidedly abnormal, and criminal, ways. And then they were dropping dead with no clear cause of death. 

"So what do you have on Brandon?"

"First off, that someone had a very personal grudge against the man. Even if he'd lived, he'd have been a soprano for the rest of his life at the very least. He was beaten to a pulp. I mean, like I said, it looks like he was beaten with a sledge-hammer. The man's bones weren't broken or shattered, they were turned to _dust_. Internal organs were ruptured..." 

Maria, who had born witness to the brutal beating, was still startled by the strength it must have taken to cause so much damage.

Miguel shook his head and continued. "Problem is that none of those injuries were the cause of death. Hell, half of them were already starting to heal by the time he died."

"How the hell does a man survive something like that?" she whispered. 

"I think the real question is how anyone with what it takes _to_ survive that turns around and drops dead for no good reason a few days later," he answered.

"And you are sure, and I mean absolutely _positive_ that the man was not beat to death?" she asked quietly. 

She had seen the beating Cole Hauser had given William Brandon. She could not really blame him under the circumstances, either. But that did not change the fact that a lot of dead bodies were tied back to him in some way or other. Still, she had heard him tell Mel that he had not killed the man, too. And Vic swore blind that Cole was no killer, even if he had tacitly allowed that he _was_ related back to a lot of the unexplained deaths. 

"I don't know _how_ he survived that beating, but it's not what killed him, either," Miguel said, shrugging. "I mean, quite a few of our DB's have had broken bones and whatnot, but that's not the cause of death on any of _them_, either."

"And still no closer to finding out what _did_ kill them?" she asked, sighing. 

He shook his head apologetically. "Not for want of trying to find out, but I am _still_ clueless, Maria. I'm sorry." 

"You're the best, Miguel," she told him. "We can't fault you on this. God knows you've been trying your damnedest to figure this one out." She shook her head. "We'll crack it," she promised, patting his shoulder. 

"Here's hoping," he sighed. 

"We will," she assured him with more conviction than she felt. "Between the two of us and the others... we _will_ crack this."

He nodded slightly, heartened by her assurance. "Look, I know I probably pulled you from an evening with Vic, but I didn't want to talk about this over the phone."

"Those _federales_ breathing down your neck?" she asked, frowning.

He shrugged and nodded. "Nothing I can't handle."

"I don't like them harassing my favorite ME, Miguel. It gets out of hand, you let me know."

"Only if you promise not to assault any federal agents," he told her with a grin. 

"You know me too well, Miguel," she informed him with a crooked grin. She glanced over his shoulder at the wall-clock. "Go home, Miguel. Try to forget it."

"Like I could if I tried. Thanks for the advice, though." He nodded, sighing and retrieving his coat. "Any ideas, Maria?"

"None yet. I'll let you know what I come up with, though," she promised, winking at him. 

"Yeah, right. I know you too well, like you said." He shook his head. "You'll let me know when and _if_ it suits you. Not before and not otherwise." 

"Miguel..."

"It's okay, Maria. I understand." He smiled reassuringly. "Go home, woman," he advised gently.

"Home?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "Nah. I figured I'd go out and get hammered first."

He shook his head. "See you at Mass on Sunday."

"See you then. Give my love to the wife and kids."

"Will do." He grinned and nodded before shrugging on his coat and leaving the morgue. 

Maria watched him go with a sigh, shaking her head and considering their discussion. She had almost hoped that the cause of death would be as straightforward as an angry boyfriend defending the woman he loved. Factoring _that_ out of the equation left more questions than it answered. Questions about Cole's strength. Questions about how Brandon had survived a pummeling that _should_ have killed him. Questions about what had happened to him after that. Questions about what was happening to these people at all to make them capable of such crimes...

"Too damned many questions," she muttered, shaking her head and leaving the morgue. 

Not that questions or challenges bothered her, but she hated the feeling that she was deliberately being kept out of the loop. Clearly, something _was_ going on. Just as clearly, Vic knew exactly what it was. Which begged a whole other set of questions, not the least of which was how Melanie Porter was involved in it all as she so obviously was. 

Mel... Maria shook her head, trying to dispel the memory of the woman lying on a warehouse floor, _glowing_. There was no way she had seen that. It could not have happened. Humans did not glow. Certain funguses may have, but not humans. Radiation, maybe? There had been burns on some of the other victims that were not inconsistent with concentrated doses of radiation. But if that were the case, Mel should have been dead and Maria should have been suffering a nasty case of radiation poisoning of her own. 

Just a trick of the lighting, she told herself firmly, and it was easy to make herself believe it. It was somewhat harder, though, to ignore the fact that the woman glowing on that warehouse floor had borne dozens of injuries, bruises and deep cuts, none of which had been in evidence two days later. That was somehow significant, she knew, although she was unsure why or how. Her mind knew the connection was there, it just refused to make the necessary leap to see it. 

Deep in thought, she made her way automatically to the parking garage, not noticing that she was not alone there until someone quietly called her name. She jumped, reaching automatically under her jacket to where her pistol was holstered.

"It's okay, Detective," one of the men said, holding his hands away from his body. "I'm going for my badge now," he told her, slowly reaching into his pocket and extracting it.

He flashed it and started to put it away, but Maria caught it with one hand. The other remained poised to draw should the need present itself. She did not like being approached by strange men in dark parking garages. Mentally kicking herself for inattentiveness, she scanned the badge. FBI, Agent Sampson. It looked genuine, had all the right holograms in the right places. Which did not mean a damned thing and she knew it. Feds did not decide they wanted to talk to cops and then follow them into empty parking garages after hours. 

She handed the badge back to Sampson, snapping her fingers at the other man. "Yours too, please."

He handed it to her, his expression amused.

"You have me at a disadvantage," she explained smoothly, aware that he was less amused than he looked. They were sizing her up. Her gut told her that if they had actually been Bureau, they would not have needed to do that, not when the FBI had been scouting her out for years now. "You know my name. I didn't know yours, Agent... Wilkes," she read, handing the badge back to him without further scrutinizing it. "Now, what can I do for you gentlemen?" she inquired, affecting a casual air that was not at all in keeping with her current feelings. Her fight-flight instincts were _screaming_ at her to get out of the situation at all costs. Her Detective instincts wanted to stay and find out as much about these men as possible. Starting with what they wanted with her. 

"You know this man?" Wilkes asked, producing a surveillance photo and handing it to her.

_The plot thickens_... "Yeah, I've seen him around. Cole something, I think..." 

As if they did not know that she knew him. It was the oldest ploy in the book, getting to a wanted individual through a second or third party. Every RICO investigation ever conducted relied on it, finding a way into organized crime families through chinks in otherwise impenetrable armor. 

She handed the picture back to him, affecting polite interest. "My former partner would know the name for sure. He used to date the woman your boy lives with," she offered, glancing at her watch. "Seems like a decent enough guy the few times I've seen him around the bar." She paused, then explained, "Oh, Melanie, his girlfriend, owns this little cop-bar. He helps her out down there sometimes." 

"And this Mel used to date your former partner?"

Maria resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at the slip, using Mel's nickname before she herself had. They knew everything she was telling them, obviously, or they never would have come to her. She decided to keep talking, to see if she could get them talking. 

"That's right. Vic and Melanie used to date. Lovely woman, very sweet. They parted amiably enough, still stay in touch..." She shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"We're interested in this man she's living with."

She raised an eyebrow, not commenting on how obvious that was. "Is that so?"

"Yes. We have reason to believe that he's in this country illegally."

Maria felt her eyebrow making its way further towards her hairline. _That_ was new. "Wouldn't that be INS territory?" she asked after a moment, keeping her voice steady.

"INS, ATF, CIA, FBI... A lot of people would like to get their hands on this man, Detective," Sampson said quietly. "You're an intelligent woman, you've seen the same crime trends the rest of us have. We think he's related to what's been happening to these people." 

_Not_ new information. She was back on terra firma for the time being, but still highly suspicious of these men and their motives. If their investigation had been legitimate, and what they claimed it was, they would have been able to come to her directly. Or, for that matter, to Vic, who could certainly be expected to be forthcoming if national security really was at stake. Whoever they may or may not have been, their investigation was under the table, that much was clear. 

"Not that we have _proof_ yet," Wilkes added, shaking his head. 

"We were hoping we could pool our resources," Sampson told her. "We've been keeping as much of an eye on the situation as we can, but we're encountering some resistance to the idea of investigating the matter."

Maria nodded shortly. That jibed with her own efforts to dig deeper into what was really going on. Only a small handful of people had noticed the trends that had been worrying her and, until recently, Vic so much. Everyone else considered them paranoid and their investigations a waste of time. Johansen had made more than one X-Files jokes at her expense and Vic's just lately. Of course, he was so dense that he would not have noticed a crime-trend if it walked up and mugged him.

Still, for the time being, it was easier to keep things unofficial. Too many members of the force were old-school, only interested in the tangible, not vague theories of possible connections between unrelated men and women. People who had started to connect those dots and see the bigger picture found that they encountered less resistance _and_ ridicule if they quietly put their heads together after hours. 

So she or Vic or one of a handful of other Detectives might discreetly mention to Miguel or a sympathetic coroner's assistant that they would appreciate an extra-thorough autopsy in a given case. And Miguel would casually mention that to the others, along with the autopsy results, allowing them to effectively pool their information. And since there was nothing unusual in the sight of a group of cops with their heads together at the Watchfire on a Friday night, they would often compare notes that way. 

While it was true that they were none the wiser as to what was causing otherwise normal people to turn to lives of crime and then mysteriously die, it had quickly become obvious that the scope of the case was far greater than any of them had suspected. Eventually, they would crack it. In the meantime, all they could do was pool their evidence and keep searching.

She glanced considering up at the two men. "So why come to me?" she asked quietly.

"Honestly, you weren't our first choice," Wilkes answered without hesitation. "But Doctor Ramirez was reluctant to cooperate." 

"You could always ask for his reports through official channels," she pointed out mildly. 

"Ultimately we will," Sampson assured her. "But right now we'd rather avoid the wrong kinds of notice. I hear they've taken to calling you Detective Scully at the precinct?"

"Not to my face," she answered with a grim smile. "And not more than once within my hearing, I can assure you."

"Mutual respect between law enforcement officials is important," Sampson continued. "It's very hard for an agent of the law to do his job without the respect of his peers."

"In other words, you don't want to stick your neck out until you have proof?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest. Maybe they _were_ Bureau after all...

"Essentially, yes." Sampson nodded unrepentantly. "You've been investigating these trends for some time now, so you are the logical person to coordinate with. Discreetly, of course."

"So where's Cole Hauser come into play?" she asked, deciding that if there was information to be had from these men, there was information to be had. "Or does he at all? Was he just your opening to approach me?"

"We honestly aren't sure where he fits in, but we think he does. And he's not the only one. We don't have a picture, just a name..."

"Zin." Maria nodded faintly. "Yeah, constant thorn in our sides at the precinct, too," she agreed. "Very heavily into organized crime."

"Is work the only place this name is familiar from? Has Cole Hauser ever mentioned it? Or Mel Porter?"

Mel Porter, Mel's life. What had Lana called it? _Zin's gift to Cole..._

And a few days ago her biggest worry had been that Cole was merely indebted to Zin. But what if he really _did_ work for the man? What if he switched sides out of gratitude? Or just looked the other way? And how would Vic react if Maria sold Cole out?

"Not as far as I can remember," she answered finally, pretending to search her mind. "I can keep my ears open, though."

"We would appreciate it."

"And what exactly should I be listening _for_?"

"Mentions of Zin, mainly. But anything out of the ordinary, really."

"Out of the ordinary?" she repeated. "Life in general is out of the ordinary these days, Agent," she pointed out mildly.

"More out of the ordinary than usual, then," Sampson told her, frowning slightly. The frown was quickly replaced by a smile. "Or related to the general trend of unusual happenings. You are an undeniably intelligent woman. I think we can trust to your sense of the matter."

"Not to sound too mercenary, but what's in it for me?" 

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'd dangle the enticement of acceptance into the Bureau, but you've rejected _that_ offer more than once," he pointed out. "What do you want?"

"Other than peace on earth and an end to all crime and poverty?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and doing her best to conceal her intense dislike for these men. "I want what you want, Agents. To know what the hell is going down on _my_ beat..." She shrugged. "Fair trade."

"Information for information, is that it?" Wilkes asked, nodding faintly. "It's a fair thing to ask, Sampson."

Oh, now they were playing good cop, bad cop with her? She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing in his face. These men were as on the up and up as Zin himself was. _If_ they were that genuine. Still, if they had information... Vic was cutting her off, maybe it was time to look elsewhere for the answers she needed.

"Tell me what you know," she suggested. "And I'll think about it."

"Zin is not restricting his activities to Chicago, for one," Wilkes told her. "He's active in London and probably elsewhere as well..."

"That so?" she asked. "I guess he can officially add Interpol and MI-5 to his list of admirers..." 

"You don't seem too surprised, Detective," Sampson said, frowning.

"I'm not, _Agent_," she answered flatly. "Zin is an ambitious man," she pointed out, not bothering to tell them that Cole had already told her as much about Zin's overseas dealings. "Why should he limit himself to Chicago?" 

"People are _dying_, Detective," Wilkes pointed out. "I would think you, of all people, would take that more seriously."

"Dead serious, as far as I can see," she answered, shrugging. "But you're here asking me to eavesdrop on a man without any compelling incentive and, more importantly, without probable cause..."

"We aren't asking you to break any laws," Wilkes began in a mollifying tone.

"No, but you are asking me to skirt a _very _fine line," she pointed out. Worse, they were asking her to exploit her relationship with Vic to do it. That they were not saying so out loud did not change the fact. "Isn't 'integrity' something of a by-word with you lot? 'Fidelity, bravery, integrity', isn't that your catch-phrase at the Bureau?"

"These men are dangerous, you know that," Sampson muttered, shaking his head. 

"Oh, I know that these men are dangerous. In the past two years, I've come to know these men very well indeed. Still, better the devil you know..." Shaking her head, she fished her keys from her pocket and turned towards her car.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you're turning your back on?" Sampson demanded. "The _scope_ of this thing? This isn't about law enforcement. It isn't about Homeland Security. We are talking about a global threat on a scope you can not begin to imagine!"

Maria paused, raising an eyebrow. It was the first word from his mouth that she believed to have been genuine. 

"I have a very active imagination," she said softly, turning to face him. "Try me." 

"You aren't cleared," Wilkes told her abruptly, glaring at Sampson. 

"My clearance was Top Secret during the first gulf war," she informed him. "But you'd already know that, of course." 

"You aren't cleared," he repeated firmly. 

"No? Then I believe we're done here."

"Damn it, Wilkes," Sampson hissed. "We _need_ her..."

"You _do_ need me, don't you?" she asked, smiling faintly at him. "Now tell me why and I might consider helping you out."

"Whatever is going on with Zin's people, Cole Hauser is involved. If we could find out how..."

"Maybe he's one of the good guys like us?" she suggested.

"He is _not_ like us." Sampson shook his head violently. "That much we do know. Or are, at least, we're pretty damned sure of it. But we can't get _proof_..."

Maria paused, intrigued. Whatever pre-established script they had come to her with, they were deviating from it in a big way. They were desperate. 

"Proof of what?"

"Sampson..." Wilkes warned.

Sampson shook his head shortly. "Of the existence of extra-terrestrials, of the fact that they're living among us," he whispered. 

Maria scoffed and shook her head. "You know, you _almost_ had me there. Johansen send you?" she asked, turning towards her car again.

"Come with us," Sampson ordered, grabbing her arm.

"What?" she asked, turning and scowling at him.

"We have proof, footage of one of these people using super-human abilities..."

Wilkes shook his head, clearly disgusted. 

"Who do you really work for?" she asked quietly, making no move to pull away. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sampson answered. "Detective Cruz, there are individuals within the government who have noticed the same trends that you have and who are _very_ worried about them. But Hauser's the wild-card. We don't know where, or _how_, he fits in. If you don't want to help us, why don't you think about _this_: that little boyfriend of yours is colluding with the Enemy!"

"You son of a--"

"Your cooperation _might_ buy him leniency," Sampson continued quietly. "But if you don't cooperate, there is _nothing_ between us and him when we conclude this investigation..." 

Maria closed her eyes, bowing her head. "You're good. I'll give you that much, you son of a bitch. You _are_ good..."

"I thought you might be convinced to see reason."

"Shut the hell up and tell me what you want me to do."

"Keep your ears open for any mention of Zin or aliens."

"What else?" she asked quietly.

"We have proof positive if you'll come with us."

"Like I have a choice," she sighed, nodding and gesturing for them to lead the way. 

  



	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Please, Detective, have a seat," Sampson offered as they entered the office, gesturing towards a chair. "Wilkes, get the tape."

Wilkes frowned at him for a long moment before nodding sharply and leaving. It was no skin off of his nose, after all, if Sampson wanted to commit professional suicide by bringing a civilian into the matter. His own objections were a matter of record. 

Maria looked up at Sampson with a sigh. "Look, you strike me as being a little smarter than your amigo. Or, at least, a little more _desperate_," she amended. "So let's be straight with each other."

"I have been. Hard as it is to believe, we are facing a threat like nothing the human race has ever seen before." 

She shook her head, irritated. "Whatever. Vic's a smart man. He's going to know something's up with me."

"Not from you, he won't," Sampson countered quietly. "Not if you value his freedom." 

"You aren't Bureau. Who do you _really_ work for?"

"Department of Defense," he said, shrugging.

"Yeah?" she asked, nodding faintly. It was more believable than their assertions to be FBI, certainly, even if she remained dubious about their claims. Aliens indeed... "Patriot Act?" 

"Not directly, but it _is_ helping our investigation." 

"I'll bet it is," she agreed, absently scratching the back of her hand. "You can violate an awful lot of the provisions of the Bill of Rights in the name of National Security."

"Yes, we _can_," he agreed easily.

"Like keeping me here."

He nodded.

Maria smiled and shook her head. "You're good," she repeated. "So, this videotape I'll be watching?" she asked.

"Footage of the apprehension of an extraterrestrial biological entity." 

"I see," she murmured, smiling sardonically at the turn of phrase. 

Now he was even starting to use the same _parlance_ as an episode of the X-Files. And it tripped off of his tongue quite easily, too, she noted. Most DOD functionaries probably would have stumbled over the term. It was obviously one Sampson used a lot, though.

"We were expecting it to be a lot cleaner than it was," he added with a slight frown. 

"Cleaner?" she repeated. "Witnesses?"

"One or two. Along with a lot of casualties." 

"Is there anything you _haven't_ shared with her yet?" Wilkes asked irritably, returning to the office with a tape in hand. 

"Well, he hasn't shown me pictures of his kids yet," Maria provided, smiling up at him. "Can we get this over with? I'm meeting someone this evening." 

"Just watch the tape," Wilkes suggested brusquely, plugging it in. 

Maria nearly choked as the woman ran into the frame. _Lana... _She would have recognized that tiny form anywhere. God, she even jogged with a swagger. Maria had borne witness firsthand to the fact that she had some decidedly inhuman abilities, and that language she had been speaking to Cole bore no resemblance to any of the human tongues Maria had studied. 

Could Sampson have meant it? Could Zin's people really be other than human? It would certainly have explained a hell of a lot.

'_Superhuman strength_' was a phrase that had been applied to a lot of suspects just lately. '_Faster than should have been humanly possible_' had been her own assessment of William Brandon. Miguel had once told her '_no weapon known to man could have done this_' and, another time, '_it's not like any drug we've ever seen_'. And literally hundreds of unexplained deaths on top of all that.

She covered her stunned reaction with a feigned coughing-fit, leaning forward in her chair and lifting both hands to her face. Her mind was screaming at her, her head spinning with the implications. She was peripherally aware that someone was offering her a glass of water and she accepted it, badly wishing that it was something far stronger. 

"Are you okay?" Wilkes asked quietly after she had taken several sips and composed herself.

"Yeah, sorry. Getting over a cold," she lied. "Let's get on with it."

He shrugged and turned the tape on again.

On guard against betraying emotion again, Maria watched the video expressionlessly. Lana, jogging through some suburban park somewhere. Obviously she was familiar with the area, because she did not even slow down as the terrain turned uneven. 

At first Maria thought she had stumbled over something on her path, but when Lana jumped to her feet, pulling a small dart out of her arm and glancing around defensively, Maria realized that she had been shot. More colored tufts appeared on her chest as more darts found their mark. Tranquilizer darts, she supposed, but Lana did not show any sign of being slowed down by them. 

As several armed men, dressed in black and wearing ski-masks, converged on her, it was obvious that she had no intention of be taken without a fight. The first one to reach her was probably the lucky one, Maria decided, as she threw him effortlessly aside. He flew several dozen feet before hitting a tree and slumping to the ground, unmoving. Others went flying as well, in spite of the fact that Lana was on the ground struggling with two of the men.

Maria noted with obscure approval that Lana did not restrain herself to hitting and kicking her assailants. The girl bit and head-butted as well, struggling like a wild woman and, as far as Maria could tell, causing far more damage than she was sustaining. 

"Oh, my God, is that a cattle prod?" Maria asked in disgust as she watched it applied several times to Lana's back until the girl finally stilled. 

"The Tazer and tranquilizer darts were ineffective," Sampson answered simply. 

"May I go now?" Maria whispered as, on the film, the uninjured men carried Lana and the bulk of their own numbers off. 

"Do you believe us now?" Sampson asked, ignoring her question.

Maria closed her eyes and nodded once. "No human could have taken that kind of abuse or fought off that many men for so long," she answered quietly. "Not even drugs could explain how she managed to shake off the tranquilizers that easily." 

Wilkes nodded faintly, moving in front of her. "If that child is any example of what the others are capable of, these things are an enormous threat to all of us, Detective Cruz." 

"I'll buy that," she agreed, giving a shaky nod. 

"We told you, this goes well beyond law enforcement or homeland security. Professional loyalties don't mean a thing in the face of this kind of a threat. Will you help us?"

"How many of them are there?"

"Best estimate to date is at least a hundred."

"Damn," she whispered, closing her eyes. "And you think Vic is mixed up in it all somehow as well?"

Wilkes nodded. "And I think it's fair to say that he's probably in more danger from these... _things_ than he could ever be from us. They're criminals and they've proved their willingness to kill."

Maria nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can find out," she promised, rising. "Please excuse me." Not looking back at them, she fled the office and hurried into the nearest restroom, gratefully emptying her roiling stomach. 

She drove straight home, then, not trusting herself to go back to the Watchfire. She locked the door behind her and walked into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and surveying its contents for a moment before selecting a bottle of cheap vodka and carrying it into the living room along with a water glass. She had no illusions about how much she was going to drink tonight and saw no reason to pretend. 

_Aliens... _

She had never had a problem accepting that there probably was life on other planets but, at the same time, she did not for one moment believe that it was possible that this life had managed to bridge the distance between stars to find its way to Earth. Except that now it seemed very likely that they _had_. Unexplained deaths, bizarre behavior, seemingly superhuman feats of strength and agility... Lana was an alien. Zin was an alien. Gregory James, William Brandon: aliens. Too many other suspects and dead bodies to count: all aliens. 

And Vic knew. That was the only possible explanation for his abrupt turnaround. He knew and he was involved. Cole had involved him because, somehow, Cole was involved himself. How, though? Did he work for Zin or against him? And if he worked _against_ Zin, did that make him one of the good guys? Not necessarily, no matter what Vic thought about Cole. Criminals actively worked against the interest of other criminals all the time and there was no reason why that should be any different with aliens. Cole could easily be using Vic to that end, lying to him about his good intentions. She had to believe that _Vic_ believed in Cole's good intent, but she was not sure if she had that same faith in him herself.

Because Cole _was_ involved. Vic had first met him lying in a chalk outline at a crime-scene. That crime-scene had, not coincidentally, been part of the first case they had worked involving strange happenings in Chicago. After that, Vic had run into Cole repeatedly while investigating other unusual cases. Maria knew all of this because Vic had told her before he had gone silent on the issue of Cole Hauser. 

Literally overnight, after getting pummeled by Gregory James, Vic had changed his tune about Cole, Vic who had been beaten within an inch of his life and gone to the Watchfire before the hospital. Something had happened that day, something had been revealed, she was sure. Vic got talkative when he got drunk and he had given her an earful about it. Little of it had made any sense at the time, but now she was starting to wonder.

_Gregory James has been dead for six months_, he had told her less than a day after he had put Maria and Vic both in the hospital. That and, _my life's turning into an episode of the Twilight Zone._

She drained and refilled her glass, considering. If Gregory James had been dead for six months, that meant that someone else had attacked them, someone who had only _looked_ like Gregory James. 

"So it's invasion of the damned body snatchers," she muttered in disgust, picking up her phone. "That explains everything..." Sighing, she shook her head and dialed. 

"Yeah, Detective Bruno."

"Hey, Vicky. It's Maria."

"Mar, hey. You still at the morgue?" 

"Nah, I went home."

"I thought you were going to meet me at the Watchfire..."

"I was, but I'm not feeling too great. Figured I'd sack out early." 

"You want company?" he offered.

"I don't think I'd be very good company right now. You know how bitchy I get when I'm under the weather." 

"If you're sick, you shouldn't be alone," Vic protested.

"I'm not sick. Just tired."

"I'm still coming over," he informed her. "I'll stop on the way and get some chicken soup and Nyquil for you." 

Maria could not help but smile at the offer. Vic was nothing if not attentive. "No Nyquil, Vic, but if you could get some Alka-Seltzer, I'd love you even more than I do now." 

"Your stomach bothering you again?" he asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice.

"That's what happens when you have a partner like Johansen." 

"Huh," he answered dubiously. "Maybe you should see a Doctor?"

"I have a routine checkup in a few weeks. I'll mention it to her then." 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Want me to rent some movies, too? We can have a night in."

"You sure? Seemed to me like Mel and Cole had a lot going on."

"Mel and Cole can take care of themselves."

"So can _I_," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're more fun to curl up on the couch with, babe." 

She rolled her eyes. "Curling up on the couch all you had in mind?" she teased. 

He chuckled. "Depends on how much better you feel after I administer a little TLC." 

"Mmm," she murmured, smiling. "That a challenge, Vicky?"

"Hey, not my fault you could never resist a challenge." 

"Oh, challenges I'm good at resisting. It's _you_ I have a problem saying no to." Her smile widened as she heard him chuckling nervously over the line. "I love you, Vic Bruno."

"And I love you, Maria Cruz. I'll be there soon," he promised.

***

Vic returned to the war-room after he hung up the phone. Cole and Zin were bent over a computer together and Mel was hovering at the door regarding Zin with a combination of wariness and disgust. She jumped slightly at Vic's approach, but looked almost grateful for the interruption.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, Maria's not feeling well, so I thought I'd go over there, make sure she's okay." 

Mel nodded, frowning. "She has seemed a little off lately," she noted. "Let us know if there's anything we can do."

"Will do, Mel. Thanks." He smiled down at her. "And you guys call if I can be of any help on this end."

"We will," Mel told him, giving him a hug. "Tell Maria I hope she feels better." 

"Okay, Mel." He nodded. "You take care of yourself."

"I will," she promised, smiling reassuringly at him as she watched him go. Sighing to herself, she returned her attention to Cole and Zin. "What's the plan?"

Zin glanced up at her, his expression startled.

"Mel has a provisional commission to the Tracker Corps," Cole told him. "I do not keep the details of my work from her."

Zin gave a short nod and told Mel, "Lana is being held in a small, heavily guarded military testing facility outside of the city. We'll be lucky to get in undetected and luckier to get Lana out without bloodshed." He sighed and shook his head. "I'd rather avoid that if possible, but I'm not sure if it will be possible or not."

"There will be no bloodshed," Cole told him firmly. "We will get in and out without being detected or we will abort." 

Zin frowned faintly, but gave a defeated shrug. "Fine, fine. I'll grant you that a Cirronian can get in undetected, but a _Vardian_? Hmm? How is Mara meant to avoid detection?"

"She has her training," Cole told him, rising and pulling down a small metallic sphere from a shelf. "And she will have this..."

"The artificial Hyperspeed field prototype?" Zin whispered, staring at it with wide eyes. "We thought it lost with Kres..."

"We could never have escaped without it," Cole told him. "And now we will use it for the same purpose."

"Symmetry. Charming," Zin murmured, reaching for it. 

Cole pulled his hand out of Zin's reach. "I will give it to Mara before we enter the facility. And I will get it back when we have recovered Lana..."

Zin smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Fair enough, I suppose. You've learned caution," he noted. "About time." His smile fading, he returned his attention to the schematic. "We have likely points of entry here, here, and here," he said, pointing. 

"Ventilation and utility accesses," Cole murmured. 

"These are traditional weak points in any instillation," a new voice contributed.

Mel yelped and jumped, spinning to face the newcomer. Mara regarded her with a faintly contemptuous expression for a moment before stepping around her and leaning over Zin's shoulder to examine the schematic.

"We'll need more information on troop disposition," she announced. 

Cole nodded and moved to one of his computers, typing rapidly. "Here. These dots represent humans," he told Mara, pointing. 

"And this one?" Mara asked, pointing.

"_That_ is an alien life-force." Cole frowned faintly at it. It really was incredibly weak.

"_Lana,_" Zin breathed, touching the screen, his expression stricken.

"She lives, Zin," Cole murmured, touching his shoulder. "She lives."

He gave a shaky nod. "Yes, but for how long? Why is it flickering like that?" he demanded abruptly.

"She is very weak."

Zin's expression hardened. "I will kill every last--"

"There will be no bloodshed," Cole reminded him.

"Those monsters _deserve _death!" he snapped. "She's a child! Just a child..."

"Be calm, sir," Mara whispered in his ear. "We _will_ recover her. I promise you this."

"Is Neko standing by to receive her?" Zin asked, drawing a deep breath and struggling to compose himself. 

He could not lose Lana. That girl was more than a subordinate or even just a protégé to him. She was daughter, sister, best friend, sympathetic ear, defender, advocate... His most valuable and loyal Lieutenant and his little princess besides.

"He is assembling his finest medical team as we speak," Mara assured him, squeezing his shoulder. "His familiarity with Lana's unique state of health will be a great advantage."

"What's so unique about Lana's health?" Mel asked, frowning.

Zin scowled at her. "That is _not_ your concern, woman!" he informed her sharply.

"Zin!" Cole snapped, fixing him with a scowl as imposing as his own. "You will treat my Taushi with the respect she is due or you will leave her home! Even on Varda a female is afforded _some_ respect."

Zin regarded Cole with momentary surprise before nodding faintly. "Mara, go," he ordered. "Wait outside." 

"Yes, sir," she murmured, inclining her head and leaving the war-room.

Zin sighed and turned his attention to Mel. "You must forgive me, Miss Porter," he said softly. "In such extremity, one forgets the bounds of good behavior. It is only my concern for Lana that makes me forget myself so. I repeat that her health history is our concern alone, but I _do_ apologize for my tone and manner. I had no right." 

To Mel's surprise, he actually sounded genuinely contrite. "It's okay," she found herself saying, startled to find herself _meaning _it, too. "You're under a lot of stress."

"Thank you," he murmured, bowing his head. Looking up, he added, "Under other circumstances, we could have been friends."

Mel's eyes widened and she regarded him dubiously for a moment before remembering that, once upon a time, he and Cole had been close friends. 

"It is to my regret that it may not now be so," he informed her. "You must be a truly remarkable creature." Inclining his head again, he called, "Mara!"

"Sir," she answered, returning to the war-room. 

"Examine our schematics and familiarize yourself with the movement of personnel within this base. Bear in mind always that Lana's time may well be short. I will be downstairs if I am required." Patting her cheek, nodding to Cole, and bowing to Mel, he left the room.

Mel stared uncertainly after him. He was not what she had expected him to be, not by a long shot...

***

Lana struggled against the oblivion trying to keep its hold on her, mentally cursing her captors. Zin would not be long now, she comforted herself. He could not be.

"You're shaking," a low voice noted and she felt another blanket draped over her.

"Too many drugs," she answered, her voice shaking worse than her tiny frame. "You're killing me." 

"You strike me as a hard woman to kill."

"Not a woman," she muttered thickly, shaking her head. "Haven't reached majority yet..."

"Is that so?" Now the woman sounded interested. "You're still a child?"

"Adolescent," Lana answered. "Still have a few years." Her eyes shot open as she realized how readily she was answering this woman's questions. _Truth serum_... She fought its influence.

"Fascinating," the woman purred. "And are adults of your race even more powerful than you?"

"My race?" she repeated, redoubling her efforts against the sodium pentothal. Even the most powerful truth drugs could be fought, she reminded herself firmly, and, weakened or not, she intended to do just that. So far, it was working.

"Oh, please. Even if there had been any doubt before, your little telekinetic tantrum would have capped it. Parker badly wants to know how many more of you there are."

"No tantrum," she protested. People did not usually survive telekinetic temper-tantrums. What she had done had been nothing more than a desperate attempt at escape. "Let me _go_..." she pled.

"Mmm, not even if I was ordered to," she purred. 

"_Taghan_," Lana muttered, closing her eyes again. 

"What?" Kelley asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I said that you were the illegitimate mongrel brat of a half-breed whore," Lana told her, smiling bitterly. 

"You little," Kelley began, frowning and raising her hand. "I will _vivisect_ you if that's what it--"

"Kelley!" Parker snapped, entering the room. "Is there a problem?"

"Several. I'll prep more pentothal."

"No!" Lana protested, shaking her head violently. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?" she demanded, struggling weakly against her restraints. She could hear her own heartbeat on the monitor, quick and erratic. 

"If you start cooperating, we can cut back on the drugs," Parker murmured when Kelley was gone. 

"I haven't done anything wrong," she whispered, turning her head to look at him. "Let me go."

"Tell me what you're doing on this planet."

"I don't know what you mean. I _live_ here..." The pentothal had her head swimming, but she retained the presence of mind not to give in to its influence. "My name is Veronica Li, I was born in Gary, Indiana in 1984..."

"Not according to our records. Of course the first thing we did when we apprehended you was to check your ID. There is no Veronica Li. She may have a social security number and a bank account, but she doesn't have a birth certificate. Now why don't you tell me about Zin."

Lana stared at him with wide eyes. "What is Zin?" she asked in what she hoped was a steady voice. 

"Zin is the man you called on to help you when you couldn't help yourself," he informed her in a low voice, shaking his head. "Is he like you? More powerful? What is he to you?"

Lana closed her eyes and remained silent. 

"We'll get the answers we want from you."

"You underestimate me," she informed him. "I will drink of your blood before this is over. _Ayjata thera ayjata..._"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Again, Lana remained silent, smiling to herself as he started cursing and threatening her. Zin would come, he would free her, and she would take this impudent human's life as recompense for all that she had been forced to suffer.

Her smile grew as she reflected on that. He would come. He _would_... 

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Vic stared down at the woman sprawled on top of him with real concern. She was not being herself today, not by a long-shot. 

He had come to her house, worried because she was complaining that she was not feeling well, only to be quite literally pounced on as he entered the front door. He had been on the floor before he knew what was happening, an amorous Maria all over him. His suggestion that they at least carry things into the bedroom had been met with a firm rejection on the grounds that the bedroom was simply too far away. They had made it there eventually, but there had been several detours along the way. 

While Maria was well past the point of being shy about such things, she had been different tonight: more in-control, more wanton, considerably more inclined to experiment... Not that he had not enjoyed her taking the lead for a change, but it troubled him, too, for some reason he could not quite place. And he had the nagging, alarming impression that she had not been entirely in the here and now during the experience. 

Then there had been her words as they drifted towards sleep in each other's arms, whispered so quietly that he might as easily have imagined or misheard them.

_"I'm sorry..."_

Sorry about what? He shook his head, gently running his fingers through her hair, and resolved to talk to her about it in the morning. 

***

Mel watched uneasily as Cole and Mara made their final plans, aware that Zin was watching just as avidly, his brow furrowed. 

Mara was dressed like something out of a spy movie, in a black leotard with slippers instead of hard-soled shoes, a flat backpack, another pack strapped to her chest. She spoke in low tones, gesturing more often than she spoke, a black ski-mask in each hand. Cole was dressed in jeans and a sweater, both dark, but he at least could have passed for just another man on the street. Mara would have turned heads anywhere. Not, Mel told herself firmly, that it really mattered. This _was_, after all, an illicit operation. They were about to break into a government facility. If either of them was seen, there would be trouble, no matter _what_ they were wearing. 

"Don't worry," Zin murmured, touching her shoulder. When she jumped, he sighed and shook his head, dropping his hand. "Don't worry," he repeated. "Mara knows what she's doing."

"She ever done anything like this before?"

"She has in numerous simulations."

"This is a little different."

Zin's calm expression wavered for a moment before he composed himself. "It is. But I paid good money for Mara to learn the skills she has. I could have bought and sold her five times over and had change. If _any_ of my people can do this, Mara _is_ that person..."

Mel found faintly, troubled both by Zin's obvious discomfiture and by his casual mention of buying and selling another. Of course, why not? He had done everything _else_...

"Sir, we are ready," Mara announced, handing Cole one of the ski-masks and approaching him. "Your orders?"

"No deaths if there's any way to avoid them. We do not want to draw any more attention from this element than we already have."

"Understood." She inclined her head.

"Other than that, just bring Lana back to me in one piece."

"It will be done," Mara promised. 

"And keep yourself safe as well," Zin added, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips to her forehead. "I am most genuinely fond of you, child. Your loss would be a terrible blow, to the Cause and to me personally. I mean it, Mara. No unnecessary risks."

"Of course, sir," she murmured, glancing to where Mel and Cole were standing, talking together in low voices. "And _him_?"

"He comes out in one piece as well. That's an order."

Mara's eyes narrowed, but she nodded her acceptance of the directive. 

"He still has his uses to me. They both do." He smiled down at her, patting her cheek. "Now go."

"Shall I not allow the young lovers--" she began, only to stop dead as Zin raised his hand to strike her. 

"Learn respect," he advised coldly, dropping his hand. He glanced to Mel and Cole, staring at him. "Daggon, are you ready?"

Cole frowned faintly, staring from one Vardian to the other for a long moment before nodding. "We won't be long, Mel," he promised in a low voice.

"Stay safe," she whispered, touching her hand to his heart. "I love you, Taushi."

"As I love you, Tausha." He smiled reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze before turning and following Mara from the bar.

"Is he always so reserved about displaying his regard for you in the presence of others?" Zin asked, raising an eyebrow and retrieving his drink from the bar.

"None of your business."

"No, of course it isn't. It's called small-talk. I thought I'd practice." He smiled, shrugging helplessly.

"What is _with_ you?" she demanded, glaring at him. "Where do you get off being so..." She trailed off, searching for the right word, seeking out what it was in him that annoyed her so completely.

"Charming, perhaps?" Zin offered, his smile widening. "Pleasant? Winning? _Affable?_ Why should I be anything less?"

"Because you're a bastard!" 

"Mmm, I am that, yes," he agreed mildly. "Yet there is something about me you find mildly appealing, yes?"

"_No!_" she protested.

"Then why did you get in the car with me that day?" he inquired, taking a long pull of his drink and eyeing her keenly.

She shook her head. "To save my own ass, mostly."

"If you honestly believe Rhee has ever been a greater threat to you than I am, you are not nearly as intelligent as I had given you credit for being."

"Proof that you can't judge a book by its cover," she muttered, stalking behind the bar and pouring herself a very tall drink. 

"Humans call it duality," Zin contributed quietly after a few minutes absolute silence in the empty bar.

"Duality?" Mel repeated, staring incredulously at him. She was familiar with the Cirronian version of the concept, but it surprised her that the Vardian might claim it for himself.

"Mmm hmm." Zin nodded. "We each of us have two natures. _Yes_, the blood runs cold in my veins, but my heart is not without warmth, either."

"I'll believe _that_ when I see it..."

"In all likelihood you never will." He shrugged. "But you can ask Daggon. He'll tell you. I am not without love or compassion."

"Like hell!"

"Ask Daggon," Zin repeated mildly. "There is a reason he once called me friend." He glanced at her over the top of his glass for a long moment before draining it. "Another, please." When she hesitated, he chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry. As a species, we are not violent drunks. Please," he added, an almost desperate edge to his voice. "I don't want to have to think about what they're doing to her..."

Mel shuddered at the pain in that whisper. He really _did_ love Lana on some level. Nodding, she found the bottle and refilled his glass.

***

"She's delirious," Kelley informed Parker, folding her arms over her chest. "Yet still quite interesting to listen to..."

"How much pentothal did you give her?"

"Enough to kill a human twice her weight." Kelley shrugged faintly, never tearing her eyes from the observation window. "That drug tolerance alone could be invaluable..." 

"Not so much so as the telekinesis. What does the brain imaging reveal?" 

"Oh, all sorts of fun and interesting things," she assured Parker, grinning up at him. "My team has never seen a brain wired like that. _Definitely_ not human..."

"I want her alive, Kelley. I want to know how that trick of hers works, how to fight it."

"What about _replicating_ it?" she asked. "Think about **_that_**! Think about the edge that could give us..."

"Think about how many of us one of those creatures could kill before we could kill it," he suggested, shaking his head. "_That_ is our priority here. Neutralization! You'd do well to bear that in mind." 

"Neutralization," she scoffed. "Please, Parker. That creature may be a threat, but she could well be the blessing in disguise we've been looking for." 

"Or a Trojan horse..."

"Or she could be all three," she allowed, shrugging. "It doesn't matter, though. Not if we can learn to utilize abilities like hers. That doesn't just give us an edge against _them_, it gives us an edge against this country's enemies..." 

"How, in the face of _that_, can you still think of humans as the enemies?" he demanded, glaring at her and pointing at Lana.

"Maybe because the aliens aren't the ones killing woman and children in malls and nightclubs." She shook her head. "Yes, they _are_ a threat, but certainly not an immediate one. This creature, the others like her, they represent nothing so much as an advanced guard. Nothing may come of their presence here. But we have more immediate concerns, as well. There won't be a human race _left_ to save if certain elements of it have their way..."

He paused, staring at the delirious woman, mumbling cheerfully away with a smile on her face. Kelley was right about that much: right now their fellow humans were a far greater threat than any alien could be, especially a single one, by herself. Or _presumably_ by herself. Mentions of her Zin grew more frequent as the drugs wormed their way further and further into her system.

"The Faithful shall be gratified beyond expectation," Lana murmured. "He will make queens of courtesans and courtesans of queens and the streets shall run as rivers with the blood of the unfaithful..."

"What the hell?" Parker whispered, glancing down at Kelley.

"I don't know, and I don't _want_ to." She shook her head. "Focus on the target, Parker. That girl stands to help us greatly..."

"Get back to work!" Lana snapped abruptly. "Zin is waiting and that wormhole isn't going to establish itself."

"Did she just say _wormhole_?" Parker asked, frowning.

Kelley nodded. "Yes. And earlier she was going on about photon drift. I think she was a physicist on her planet. At least now we know how they got here."

"Unless she's _completely_ delirious from all the drugs you've been pumping into her system. What I want to know is who this 'Zin' person she keeps mentioning is." 

"Her superior, I should think."

"She doesn't strike me as the type who's good at taking orders."

"No, but she does seem to look to him in some regard." She looked up as two men entered the observation room. "Ah, Sampson, Wilkes. How did it go, gentlemen?"

"We had to show her the video," Wilkes said, clearly disgruntled by the fact. 

"She'll play ball," Sampson assured them, ignoring Wilkes. "I'll see to it."

"You do that." Parker nodded. "An inside man could be invaluable to us." 

"The drugs are wearing off," Kelley noted.

"You think?" Parker asked, glancing at Lana who was shouting and struggling against her restraints. 

"_He will come and you will** die**!_" Lana shrieked. "You will pay for this degradation!"

Kelley shook her head faintly and activated the intercom. "Sedate her, will you? I'm getting sick of the histrionics." 

"Kelley," Parker began to protest. "If you kill her..." He trailed off as the orderly abruptly went flying across the room. "Holy-- Get a dart-gun in there!" 

Kelley jogged off without a backwards glance.

"How can it be so _strong_?" Sampson whispered, staring at Lana in horror. 

Parker shook his head. "I have no clue. But I _will_ find out..." 

"_If_ you can get close enough," Wilkes amended. 

"I'll find a way," he assured them. "Dismissed, gentlemen. Keep me posted." 

***

Zin reached for the bottle again only to have his hand intercepted by Mel.

"I think you've had enough," she told him quietly, shifting uneasily as he glared at her. 

"On the contrary, Miss Porter, I have not had _nearly_ enough yet."

Mel swallowed hard. She was used to cutting off patrons, and used to having them upset with her as a result, but this was different. This was a cold-blooded killer. A telekinetic one, no less. She shifted again, shrugging and nudging the bottle towards him. She wished now that she had asked Vic to stay. 

"Don't worry, we're not violent drunks," he reminded her, filling his glass almost to the brim. Cursing under his breath, he rubbed his forehead. 

"You… okay?" Mel asked uncertainly.

He scoffed and shook his head. "I'll be 'okay' when I have Lana back," he informed her.

"No, I meant--"

"My head, I know," he interrupted irritably. "It's a migraine. I get them. Stress you know." He sighed softly, massaging his temples. "Lana usually works out the tension for me. She has wonderful hands."

"Does she?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow. "That why you hired her?"

Zin scowled at her. "You will speak of her with the respect she is due or you will not speak of her _at all_ in my presence!" he snapped. "I will not have her insulted by..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Whatever you may _think_ you know about Lana, I assure you, Miss Porter, you are mistaken. She is a kind, considerate child."

"Please. She's more cold-blooded than you are!"

"_How else was she supposed to survive that life?_" Zin shouted, half-rising. Mel jumped backwards, but Zin was too angry to notice. "She had to struggle every day, fight for things that _you_ don't even consider as basic human rights because they're so simple! The first time I saw her, she was eight. Her entire body was black and blue from a beating, discipline for trying to refuse to have sex with a customer. Can you even **_begin_** to conceive of what that child's life was before I took her from it?" he demanded. Then, almost a whisper, "_Can you?_"

Mel slowly shook her head, appalled. "No," she whispered, biting her lower lip.

"That's because _you_'ve never seen the nightmares," he muttered, shaking his head. "To this day she wakes up in the night, screaming loudly enough to rouse the entire household." He shook his head again, closing his eyes and taking a long pull of his drink. "Who'll go to her tonight?" he whispered. "Who will comfort her when the dreams come?" He looked up at her, his expression momentarily lost. "I promised I'd always protect her…"

"Sounds like she needed it, too. How could your people let something like that happen? Where were her parents?" 

"Her mother was a prostitute with the bad judgment to get pregnant. Lana was raised in a caste dormitory." He shook his head. "I mean, it went without saying that all the boys and girls there would end up being prostitutes of some stripe eventually, but even the Vardian government wouldn't sanction it at such a young age. The people who ran the dorms decided it would be a good way to make a little side-profit. And they made more than enough to pay the local authorities to look the other way."

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard."

"Not nearly as disgusting as the bribes I eventually had to pay to the _regional_ authorities to get the place closed down," he told her flatly. "I could have dowried all three of my wife's daughters and still had money left over. I could have used it, too, with the turnover I had to pay buying her guardianship."

"And you did that just for her?" Mel asked, startled.

"I did it because the practice is abhorrent! Gods, woman, how could anyone think otherwise? It's a perversion. We have consenting adults who only _look_ younger to keep children like poor Lana from being victimized like that!" He drained his glass and reached for the bottle again.

Mel was not sure exactly how much alcohol a Vardian could tolerate without hurting himself, but she was willing to bet that Zin was pushing the limit in a big way. "Zin," she began.

"She _screams_..." he murmured, either not hearing or ignoring her. "She begs and she _pleads_ and I promised I would _never_ let anyone hurt her ever again," he told Mel, his voice shaking. "I promised she would always have a safe place in my household and that no one would ever take her unwilling again. I _promised_. I swore on the names of everyone who's ever meant anything to me that there would be no more pain and no more humiliation..." 

Unable to believe what she was doing, Mel gently squeezed his shoulder. "They'll get her back," she promised. "They will."

He looked up at her, nodding weakly. "Thank you," he murmured. "You're right, of course. If any two people out there _can_ rescue her, Mara and Daggon are they." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "So help me, though, if they've harmed my Lana..."

"Cole made you promise not to kill anyone," Mel reminded him.

"So he did." 

Zin shrugged faintly. The Cirronian had made _him_ promise, for himself and for Mara. And the promise had only specified that they not _kill_ anyone. There were other ways of destroying a person, and he knew most of them. Happily, Lana knew the rest...

Mel jumped as Zin's cell-phone rang.

"Go ahead, Mara," Zin answered.

"Sir, we're in position."

He nodded and glanced up at Mel. "They're ready," he told her, snapping the phone shut.

"Okay, let's go," she said, rising and starting up the stairs. Cole's satellite uplink would allow them to guide the two through the facility without having to worry about them being seen. 

"Impressive," Zin said as Mel pulled up the program. "Are you adept with all electronics?" 

"Not really, no. I just have a lot of practice doing this." 

"Odd," he murmured. He would have expected it to take longer than three generations for the electro-spatial acuity to breed itself out. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He could muse over the mechanics of her hybridization later. 

"Cole, can you hear me?" Mel asked into the computer's microphone.

"Yes, Mel. We hear you."

"Is Doctor Zin there?" Mara's voice filtered over the computer.

"I'm here, Mara," he answered. "Proceed when ready."

"Understood. Are we clear?"

"Yeah. Nearest sentry's a good hundred yards from you," Mel told her. "Just don't make too much noise."

"I hadn't planned to," Mara informed her quietly. 

***

"Masks on," the Vardian told Cole, pulling her own on before replacing her headset. 

Cole nodded faintly and pulled on his mask and headset, making a mental note to get one for himself. It was so much more convenient than talking to Mel on a cell-phone. 

"Once in the facility, we maintain complete silence unless absolutely necessary," Mara added. "Here." She reached into one of her packs and handed Cole a weapon.

"We agreed not to--"

Mara interrupted impatiently. "They aren't fatal to humans. A charge is delivered to disrupt the nervous system, effectively paralyzing an average-sized one for several hours. It's quite safe."

Cole nodded and pocketed the weapon, handing Mara the artificial Hyperspeed device. "Last resort," he reminded her. 

"Of course," she agreed, handing him a pair of night-vision goggles. "Some of the utility tunnels will be quite dark."

"Thank you," Cole murmured, accepting them from her. 

"Let's do this," she said, gesturing for Cole to precede her to the utility-shed that would afford them access to the main facility. 

He nodded and crept in that direction, marveling as he sprung the lock at how poorly-guarded humans left their most vulnerable points of access. Of course, that was what _made_ them vulnerable, he supposed. 

  



	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Cole!" Mel's anxious voice came over the headsets. "Company. Two people headed your way from the south..."

Cole glanced at Mara, who was looking around quickly, assessing the situation. "Ventilation," she mouthed, nodding towards a grate near the ceiling. 

Cole nodded faintly and quickly climbed the wall, pulling the grate off, and giving Mara a hand up. She went quickly and Cole followed, pulling the grate against the hatch again.

"...can't believe we had to show her the tape."

"It doesn't matter at this stage, Wilkes. The point is that she was _convinced_."

"Yeah, but will her Intel be any good?"

"Of course it will. She knows what's on the line. She'll play ball and the information she provides will be invaluable in connecting this rogue back to the others."

Cole frowned. They were talking about _him_. Mara made a questioning gesture, but he shook his head. He could worry about their interest in him later. Right now, Lana was their objective. Still, if they had someone feeding information about him to them... He shook that off, waiting for their footsteps and conversation to fade.

"Cole, you're clear."

"Thank you, Mel," he whispered, climbing out of the shaft and helping Mara out.

"Sounds to me like you have a traitor in your midst," Mara noted quietly.

"I thought we were to maintain complete silence unless absolutely necessary," he answered gently, replacing the grate before sliding down the wall.

"What are you two waiting for?" Zin demanded. "You're not moving. Come on, you're almost to her!"

"And she's surrounded by about a dozen people," Mel added. "Be careful guys."

"We will," Cole assured her, gesturing to Mara. "Come on."

She nodded and leaned around the corner, glancing down the hall for a moment before gesturing to Cole. 

"Arm yourself," she murmured, pulling out her stunner as they approached Lana's cell. "Troop disposition?" she asked into her headset.

"Looks like three in the observation room and five in the main cell," Mel answered after a moment. "I can't tell if they're soldiers or scientists." 

Mara opened her mouth to speak again when the door to the cell started to open. Cole grabbed her arm and pulled her back around the corner. 

"...having some kind of seizure or something!" a voice shouted. "Get Kelley in here!"

More shouting was audible in the hallway, from multiple voices, including a series of pained shrieks from Lana.

Mara cursed and looked up at Cole. "It has to be now. They're killing her."

He nodded and hoisted the stunner. "What's the range?"

"Twenty feet. The rooms are smaller than that. We're good. Let's move."

"What the hell is going on there?" Zin's voice demanded over the headset. "It looks like mass chaos."

"It is," Mara answered flatly. "Initiating extraction," she added, turning off her headset. "Now," she told Cole. 

He nodded and both broke into a run, bypassing the observation room and heading straight for Lana's cell. Her shouts had been joined by frightened cries, frantically barked orders, and a woman trying to be heard over it all, demanding to know what the hell was going on.

"Damn it, Kelley!" a man's voice lifted over the cacophony. "I'm holding you personally responsible if anything happens to her!"

"You'll have to get in line to punish her," Mara informed him as they entered the cell, lifting her stunner and discharging it twice as he turned to face her.

"What the..." Kelley stared from the convulsing woman on the table to the woman who had just shot Parker. She reached for the alarm, almost managing to trip it before Cole hit her with a bolt from his stunner.

Mara lifted her hand to fire at one of the orderlies, but Cole caught her arm, shaking his head and looking at the frightened humans. They were harmless, innocent third parties. "You should leave now," he suggested gently. "We're just here to retrieve our friend. We don't want any trouble."

One of the orderlies glanced anxiously at the others for a long moment before he broke and ran. Cole let him pass and Mara gestured for the other two to follow. They were too busy looking at Lana to notice. Her skin was rippling and distorting itself, changing shape and color.

"**_Out!_**" Cole bellowed, shooting a beam of energy at the security camera. The last thing he needed was a video recording of a woman turning into a Vardian. 

"Observation room!" Mara told him quickly. "They'll have recording equipment as well. I'll see to Doctor Lana."

He nodded and jogged into the observation room, where two men were staring through the glass with wide eyes and pale faces. He quickly stunned both before sending several thousand volts through the computer-system. When he reached the cell again, Mara had Lana out of her restraints and on the floor, the transformation almost complete. He was not surprised that the humans had mistaken her condition for a seizure the way her body was quaking. 

"Get her clothes off," Cole directed as Mara struggled to still Lana. "They aren't designed for a Vardian. It has to be painful" 

As if in response to this statement, the room was filled with the sound of ripping fabric as Lana's long tail emerged and met resistance. Lana hissed in pain and unsheathed her claws, tearing at the remains of her clothes until they no longer constrained her. She also managed to tear the flesh of her legs, thighs, and one arm before freeing her legs from the spandex she had been wearing when captured.

"It's okay, Lana," Mara assured her, producing a knife and cutting away the rest of the fabric. "You're among friends now. We're here to take you home," she soothed.

"Not until I kill that one," Lana said, jerking her head in Kelley's direction. Her words sounded oddly guttural filtered through Vardian vocal cords.

"No. Zin says no deaths."

"Why?" Lana demanded, struggling to rise. Her knees buckled before she was even fully upright.

"Careful," Cole warned, lunging to catch her. "You're very weak."

Lana stared up at him with a confused, wary expression. "Mara, why have you brought _him_ here?"

"On Doctor Zin's order. He's here to rescue you," Mara answered, suddenly quite grateful that Lana was as weak as she was. She looked up at the sound of booted feet running in the hallway. "Five minute warning."

"Yes," Cole agreed, closing and locking the door. "Here, she's bleeding."

"I can lick my own wounds, thank you," Lana said, pulling away as he reached for her bleeding thigh. 

"Lana, I am Cirronian. You have scratched yourself badly. I can help you. It will take these injuries _weeks_ to heal otherwise," he pointed out gently. "I am Cirronian. I will _not_ hurt you..."

Lana stared up at him with narrowed eyes for a moment. She nodded and bowed her head, leaning heavily on Mara as Cole healed the damage. 

"Zin waits?" she asked Mara.

"With Neko, at the hybrid female's bar. I will take you there first. The Tracker will stay and destroy all evidence of your presence here."

"How are we to escape? They are many."

"We have this," Mara told her, pulling the artificial Hyperspeed field generator out of her pouch. 

"How much did Zin have to pay?" she asked, staring at it.

"You can discuss that with Zin later," Cole told her. "Now you must flee this place. Can you walk?"

"I'll crawl if I can't."

"I can carry you," Mara said, handing Lana the Hyperspeed device and carefully lifting her into her arms. "It's for the best anyways. You are not as strong as you feel."

"I couldn't possibly be _weaker_..." Lana moaned, shifting until she could rest her head on Mara's shoulder. "Next time remind me to get you a larger host," she grumbled when she had to crane her neck to accomplish this.

"Micro-charges and flash-charges," Mara told Cole, nodding towards her backpack. "More than enough to destroy the evidence. Take them and go. Good luck."

"To you as well," Cole murmured as he retrieved the items from her pack. "Be quick. The battery works only sporadically."

Mara nodded. "Now, Lana." 

The two vanished from sight.

Cole waited for a few breaths before walking to the door and opening it. The entire base had obviously been thrown into a state of high-alert and confusion by the report from the orderlies, which, as far as Cole was concerned, was a very good thing. They would be so busy guarding the exits that the labs and storage areas would be relatively unwatched. Leaving the door open, he reentered the room, climbing the wall and crawling into the ventilation duct. He was just pulling the grate back on when soldiers started pouring into the room. 

"Where the hell are they?" a man with an eagle on his collar demanded, glaring around the room and ignoring the prone forms on the floor. "What the hell happened here?" he demanded, rounding on one of the orderlies.

"Colonel, sir, the prisoner seemed to have some kind of seizure. While we were trying to treat the problem, two people came into the room, a large man and a small woman. Something very strange was happening to the prisoner." 

"Define 'very strange'," he ordered, rolling his eyes at the orderly's inexactness. 

"Well, sir, it... It looked like something from a werewolf movie," he admitted in a sheepish voice.

Cole bit his lower lip at the comparison. The Colonel's resulting tirade more than covered the sounds of his retreat deeper into the ducts. Shaking his head, he activated his headset. 

"Mel, can you hear me?" he whispered.

"Loud and clear. You okay?"

"I am, Mel," he assured her. "Has Mara reestablished contact?"

"Yeah. She's on her way with Lana. Zin's downstairs with Neko now." 

"Okay. I need you to get me to the main lab complex."

"Right. Hang on while I pull up those schematics." There was a pause, followed by. "Okay, South down that duct for about fifty yards. There's a t-joint. Go east."

"Thank you, Mel," Cole said softly, starting in that direction.

***

"He got out," Mel announced, entering the barroom where Zin and Neko were conferring in low voices. 

"Wonderful. And all the evidence destroyed?" Zin asked. 

"Yeah." She nodded faintly. "What about Mara and Lana?"

"ETA is five minutes or less," Neko said, rifling through his bag. "Lana is in and out of consciousness and not very coherent when she _is_ awake." He looked up at Zin, his expression grave. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure how promising her prognosis can be under these circumstances. She seems to be losing ground quickly." 

"You're the best physician I have, Neko. I have faith in your abilities." 

"Well, I will do my best," Neko assured him. "She's a sweet child."

"Thank you, Neko," Zin murmured, patting his shoulder. "How's your back, Miss Porter?" he asked abruptly. 

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the question. 

"You keep rubbing it. Is it painful? I can have Neko give you something."

She shook her head. "It's a tic."

"You have a lot of those. Are they... a recent development?"

"I've always been a little high-strung," she said, shrugging.

"Which recent events have no doubt only aggravated. I'm sorry for my role in them."

Mel raised an eyebrow, staring at him. An apology, over _anything_, was the last thing she would have expected to hear out of Zin's mouth. And even if she had, she would have expected it to be over her murder at his hands rather than over Kaehto's actions, actions over which he had no control.

She opened her mouth to answer and promptly let out a startled yelp instead. Mara was back, and she was carrying a _very_ frightening creature in her arms. It resembled nothing so much as an overgrown, scruffy, grey and black cheetah. Or, it would have if it had not _also_ been in possession of two long, tusk-like teeth. 

"Lana!" Zin gasped, crossing the bar at a run and taking her from Mara's arms. Her breathing was ragged and her skin cold. "Neko!" he called, carrying her over to one of the couches and sitting down, cradling her in his lap as Neko checked her over. "What did they do to her?"

"At a glance, I'd say they drugged her heavily. I'll have to run her blood."

"Do it," Zin said, nodding and rocking Lana as the physician rose and retrieved a syringe and small black device from his bag.

"I'll take enough now to run a full course when we get her back to the infirmary," Neko said, uncapping the syringe and taking Lana's hand in his. Turning it over, he eyed her arm for a few moments before finding a good vein. "Here, Mara, hold her arm, will you?"

Mara nodded and moved to brace Lana's arm. Lana whimpered as the needle was inserted, shaking her head and struggling against Zin and Mara. Mel jumped backwards as she unsheathed four-inch claws.

"Nishkta," Zin murmured, nuzzling Lana's cheek. "Nishkta, Lana. You're safe here. You're among friends. No one's going to harm you. I promise."

She stared up at him with glassy eyes for a moment before touching her nose to his and murmuring, "I never gave up hope. I knew you would recover me."

"You know me well," he whispered, leaning into the touch and affectionately scratching her behind the ears.

To Mel's amazement, Lana closed her eyes and started _purring_. It was absolutely the most surreal scene she had ever seen in her life.

"All done now," Neko murmured, withdrawing the needle and giving Lana's hand a gentle pat. "Good child. I'll just run this through the spectro." 

"Do you require assistance?" Mara asked.

Neko shook his head faintly as he deftly transferred a few drops of blood from the test-tube to a tiny glass tube and inserted that into one end of the machine. "It'll take a few minutes, depending on level of contamination," he told Zin. "There's not much else I can do for her until I know what they've given her."

"She's not dehydrated, is she?" Zin asked, frowning down at the girl with concern.

"No. They wanted to keep her healthy."

"You call _this_ healthy?" he demanded incredulously. 

"Alive, then," Neko amended. "Mara, would you mind running ahead and making sure the infirmary's prepped?"

"Not at all. With your permission, sir?"

Zin nodded, carefully shifting Lana from his arms to the couch and rising. "With my permission and my thanks, Mara." He approached the woman and pressed his lips to her cheek. "You've done wonderfully. You were brilliant. Anything in my power to give is yours."

"I'll get back to you." Winking, she turned and left.

Zin chuckled and shook his head. "_This_ is going to cost me..." he murmured. He turned as he became aware that Lana was stirring on the couch, her sleep troubled. "Oh, it's okay, Princess," he murmured. "I'm right here," he whispered, gathering her into his arms again. "You're safe now. Nishkta."

Mel blinked. Had Zin just called Lana _Princess_?

"Multiple positives for barbiturates and benzodiazepines," Neko announced, glancing at the readout. He pulled out his cell-phone and quickly dialed. "We're going to need a detox kit ready by the time we're there. Fire up the scrubbers now and get as much blood as you can." He looked up at Zin as he hung up. "We need to go. _Now_."

Zin snarled softly, climbing to his feet and hugging Lana to his chest. ""Miss Porter, I had hoped to stay long enough to thank Daggon in person. Will you convey my gratitude to him?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, as well. There are not words to describe how grateful I am. This will _not_ be forgotten," he promised. "You are... a remarkable woman. I'm happy he found another person he could love the way he loved Nally. He deserves to be happy. Kindly do me the favor of seeing that he remains that way."

Mel nodded slowly. "I'll take good care of him," she promised. "Good luck with Lana. I... I hope she's okay."

"Thank you." He inclined his head, then turned and followed Neko from the bar.

"God," Mel sighed, dropping into a seat. "That was... different." The bar-phone rang and she rose to answer it. "Watchfire," she said, wondering who would be calling at this hour on a Sunday. Monday now, she realized, glancing at her watch. "Hello?" she asked when there was no answer. Strange. And, in her current state of mind, unnerving. She actually shrieked when her cell phone rang, breaking the silence. Shaking her head, she hung up the bar-phone and answered hers. "Yeah?"

"Mel, it's me," Cole said. "I just wanted to let you know that I won't be back for a few more minutes. Traffic. I didn't want you to worry."

"Thank you, Cole." Mel smiled at his consideration. "You hungry? We can have an incredibly late supper."

"How about an incredibly early breakfast," he countered.

"Sounds good. French toast?"

"Yes, please, Mel. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby. Drive safe."

***

Vic woke to find Maria already dressed and obviously on her way out the door. "Mar?" he asked, glancing at her. "You leaving already? What's up?"

"Oh, I forgot I have this whole stack of paperwork. That pendejo of a partner of mine left it last night..."

"Maybe you should talk to the Captain."

"And inflict Johansen on some other hapless soul? Give it a few weeks and I might." Shaking her head and muttering under her breath in Spanish, Maria walked off without a backwards glance.

"Okay... That was odd." Vic shook his head and dropped back onto the bed, reaching for the phone and dialing. 

"Hello, Vic," Cole answered the phone.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Mel thought you would call."

"Ah. How'd it go last night?"

"We managed to recover Lana without incident. Neko was unsure if she would recover when they left."

"Ouch. Pretty beat up, huh?"

"She was heavily sedated. She is not a strong woman."

"You could have fooled me."

"How is Detective Cruz? Is she feeling better?"

"Must be, because she was off to work first thing."

"That is good."

"Well, I'll let you go. Bye, Cole." 

"Goodbye, Vic."

***

Maria did not have to turn around to know who had just walked up behind her in the empty parking garage. "How did I know you wouldn't stay away?"

"Because that would be too easy," Sampson answered. "Do you have anything?"

"Minor hangover," she said, turning around and smiling bitterly at him. "Look, let's cut the shit here. I don't like being lied to. You're not Bureau so kindly stop pretending. Who do you really work for?"

"Would you believe Majestic?" 

Maria raised an eyebrow. "As in President Truman and the Roswell crash?"

"Which organization better to investigate the presence of extra-terrestrials?"

"Please," she scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning to leave.

"I'm not joking." He grabbed her arm. 

"Let go of me," she suggested in a low voice. "You piss me off to begin with, so you do _not_ want to give me a valid excuse to kick your ass."

"You always this touchy?"

"Only with men who resort to extortion and blackmail with me," she answered, scowling at him. "Now remove your hand or I will remove it for you..."

He snorted indelicately at the comment, but did as directed. "Do you have anything for me?" he asked again.

"Not yet, no."

"How long do you plan on making us wait?" he asked levelly.

"I told you I'd keep my ears open. Short of drugging and interrogating Vic, what more do you expect me to do?"

"You're a police Detective. You should be good at finding things out."

"I'll keep my ears open," she said, turning and starting away. He caught her arm again and she spun around, dropping her fist hard against his forearm. He hit the floor with a grunt. "Next time, I will break it," she said softly, stepping over Sampson and walking to her office. "_Pendejo_..." 

  



	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Cole frowned sadly down at Mel as she stirred in her sleep. Her dreams had been troubled that night, more so than they had been for weeks. Not that he could blame her with the day she had been through. Zin's presence in the bar could only have brought up unwanted memories, and Lana's capture by the government raised serious concerns about their own security. 

Cole had other security concerns this morning. _Sounds to me like you have a traitor in your midst. _

He had been unable to bring himself to mention it to Mel the night before, not wanting her to worry herself out of her much-needed rest. Now he was starting to wonder if he should tell her at all. She had enough to worry about without him adding this concern. Maybe it was not even really necessary... 

After a long night spent deep in thought, he had it narrowed down to one of two women. He knew it had to be a female from the words of the government agents discussing the matter. The only two females other than Mel who were close enough to him to be valuable sources of information were barmaids Bridget and Isabel. He could guard his secrets from them easily enough, put Mel on her guard while masking his concerns as general rather than specific.

It troubled him that such sweet girls might be feeding information about him to people who meant him harm, but they could not really have known that they were doing wrong. Besides which, he had the distinct impression that whichever woman it was has been threatened or coerced somehow. In time, their own behavior might give away which it was, and he could take her aside and talk to her if necessary, offer help even. If the situation changed, _then_ he could share his concerns with Mel.

He nodded to himself. Mel had enough on her mind. There was no reason to trouble her with the matter. 

***

Zin sighed as the woman sleeping next to him stirred, mumbling a protest and batting at the air. "Nishkta, Lana," he repeated for probably the thousandth time in the three days since her rescue. He reached over his shoulder and gave her a reassuring pat. "Go back to sleep, Princess. I'm here."

Lana mumbled a sleepy response and snuggled closer, burying her face in the back of his neck. "I like you better with fur," she informed him petulantly. 

Zin snorted softly and rolled to face her. "So it's not enough that I grew this ridiculous bit of facial hair for your benefit? Now I have to grow my hair long, too, so that whenever you have a bad dream, you have a mane to hide your face in, is that it?" he asked with mock severity, smiling at her and brushing away a strand of hair which concealed her pretty face from him. Her human form was so cute drowsy, almost adorable all tousled as she was right now...

"You'd look good with long hair," she said, shrugging. "Very masculine."

"You're saying I don't look masculine now?" he challenged

"You said it, not me," she answered with a sly smile, reaching to touch his beard. She loved the feel of that rough hair under her delicate fingertips.

"Just remember who picked this form out for me," he suggested, swatting at her hand as she reached for him.

"Fine, be that way," she grumbled, rolling away.

"Brat," Zin muttered, catching her arm and hauling her close again, flipping her to face him as he did so. "_Why_ do I put up with you?" he demanded, holding her wrists and pulling her body flush with his own.

"Mmm," Lana murmured, burying her face in his chest. "Because I'm saner than your wife and smarter than your mistress?"

"And prettier than both of them put together," Zin added, wrapping his arms around her waist. "But don't let them hear that I told you that. I'd never hear the end of it."

Lana smiled faintly. "The potential for blackmail boggles the mind."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Hey, I still haven't told them you sing in the shower yet, have I? Your secrets are safe with me, Zin. _All_ of them. You should know that by now."

"I do. And I think that must be why I love you, child." He kissed the top of her head. "Now go back to sleep and leave me to watch the sunrise in peace."

"Peace?" Lana scoffed. "In _this_ household?" she asked, closing her eyes and relaxing into his embrace. 

He smiled wryly. "Good point. Mara says you wanted to kill one of the people holding you?"

"She told me I wasn't _allowed_."

Zin chuckled and shook his head. The petulance had returned to her tone. "I made the Tracker a promise. No dead bodies. All the same, a creative child like you shouldn't have _too_ much difficulty in coming up with some suitable retaliation."

"I don't like him telling you what to do," Lana informed him. "He is the _enemy_ here, sir."

"You would probably be dead by now if not for the enemy in question. It was a fair trade, all told. I won't deny you your revenge, but I won't have you making me break my word, either. A Vardian's honor is his most important asset."

"I thought that was _me_," she answered, concealing her smile against his chest. "Very well, sir. I promise not to kill anyone. But they _will_ suffer."

"Good." Zin smiled faintly, watching the light begin to filter into the bedroom window. He loved watching the sun rise; it was one of the few calm moments he got most days.

"Do you want to watch?" Lana asked abruptly a few minutes after the sun had crested the horizon.

"Watch?" Zin repeated, raising an eyebrow and grinning slyly. "You aren't serious, you little tease?" he asked in a low, smooth voice.

"Almost always," Lana said, grinning up at him. "I've settled on a suitable retaliation," she explained. 

"So I gathered, as you don't do much else that I'd be interested in watching. Speaking of which, Neko's trying to convince me to marry you to his son again."

Lana tensed. "No."

"That's what I told him. He didn't understand, of course."

"He thinks you're keeping me to yourself, I know." Lana nodded. "Most of them do."

"Maybe I am," Zin suggested, touching his nose to hers and absently stroking her cheek. "I mean, you really are invaluable to me. I get sex from my mistress, heirs from my wife, but I can only get honest to God _affection_ from you. What more could a man ask for?"

"All three in one convenient package," she answered quietly.

"Only in fairy stories, my dear," he murmured, kissing her forehead and glancing past her to the clock. He sighed softly. "I should go. It's going to be a long day, especially with you still on bed rest. I never realized how much easier you make my job. Which is a relief, really. I was starting to worry that my regard for you was entirely unselfish."

"Which wouldn't do at all," Lana murmured, shaking her head at him. "Honestly, Zin. What would the others say if they knew you had a heart?" she teased.

Zin ignored her. "Tell me you love me," he ordered.

"You _know_ I love you," she pointed out.

"So _say_ it," he suggested sharply, wrapping a hand firmly around her throat. "Honestly, do you _try_ to be difficult? Just say it, child." 

"Fine." Lana sat up and inhaled deeply, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "Zin, sir," she murmured, kissing his palm. "My friend and master, the only father I've ever known," she whispered, kissing his fingertips as well "For some insane reason which I have yet to comprehend, I love you more than my own life. For ten years now, I have tried without success to fight the sentiment. You've more than earned it, but I'm just perverse enough to want to be my own master."

"I'll free you from your contractual obligation to me any time, Princess," he told her, sitting up and cradling her face in his hands. "Say the word." 

"No," Lana answered, shaking her head and turning away. "A girl could do a hell of a lot worse for a master. I know..."

"Is that the only reason?" he asked, brushing aside her hair and planting a tender kiss on the back of her neck.

Lana closed her eyes. "No. But it's the only one I care to admit to."

"Prudent child," Zin murmured, kissing her neck a few more times before rising. "Get some rest. Neko will be here shortly and I'll have Mara bring some books for you later."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure, _Doctor_," he answered, bowing. "And I'll see you at lunch."

***

"Well, I don't think even my most vocal detractors will be able to argue that your situation there remains tenable," Eijan told Cole during his weekly report to her. He had delivered the last not an hour before Zin had come to them. "Not after what you've relayed to me. The incident with Kres was obviously not as isolated as we had hoped. Too many of the humans know of your presence there. They'll have no option but to back me now."

"What is to keep them from simply recalling me?" Cole asked. 

"Aside from the lack of an outgoing wormhole from that end?" she asked, her broad nose twitching with amusement. "I still have _some_ tricks in reserve. You worry about security on that end and let me handle things here."

"Of course." Cole bowed towards the hologram. "I have nothing but faith in you, Eijan. You have never failed to give me the help I need or to make an irretrievable situation work out in the end."

"That sounds suspiciously like flattery, son," Eijan remarked, her lavender eyes twinkling at him. "However, the Fates have been kind to us. The political situation here has shifted subtly since your last report. Varda had its General Elections three days ago. Kria is now on the Security Council."

"Kria? The Vardian activist?" Cole asked, blinking. That was beyond unexpected. It defied reason that, at such a time, the Vardians would elect a known Radical to the Security Council, not unless things on Varda had changed a _lot_...

"The very same," Eijan answered, obviously pleased. "And don't ask how. Believe it or not, I didn't have a hand in his election. Which is a shame because I wouldn't mind having a Vardian in my debt."

"Amazing," he murmured, shaking his head. He stopped, his eyes widening. "That's the requisite one vote per planet," he realized, laughing. "Now they _have_ to vote on your proposals."

"Yes, they do," she agreed placidly. "And with the majority vote on four of the six planets, we might actually be able to get something accomplished now. Always assuming Kria doesn't get himself assassinated first. I wouldn't put it past the Liberal party's new leadership." 

"This is... unbelievable." 

"Hey, Cole, Vic's here," Mel said, leaning into the war-room. "Oh, hi, Eijan," she greeted the Enixian with a grin. "You haven't met Vic yet, have you?" she asked as he walked in.

"Whoa!" Vic said, jumping slightly as he caught sight of the hologram. 

Mel grinned at the look on his face. He was trying to keep his expression neutral, but it was not exactly working. She remembered Cole's reaction to her first time looking at an Enixian. They are not beautiful, he had told her. Later, learning of Eijan and the other Enixians he had known, Mel had learned differently. 

"Vic, this is Eijan. You remember her?"

"Oh! Right! Of course." Vic nodded, composing himself somewhat. "Sorry, Miss Eijan, you just kind of scared me there." He frowned faintly as the Enixian's nose started to twitch and Cole let out a bark of laughter. "What?" he asked uncertainly. 

"I think we're missing out on a Migar in-joke," Mel told him, shrugging faintly. 

"It is our pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, as it were, Detective," Eijan said after a moment of silence broken only by Cole's quiet chuckling. "Your many acts of assistance to Kedriss Daggon are greatly appreciated." 

"Just doing my job," he assured her, smiling faintly. She really did have a beautiful voice. Nice eyes, too. It was a shame she also had a coarse, dirty-grey pelt and facial features out of a horror movie... 

"Actually, we are given to understand that, on many occasions, you are actually defying the precepts of your profession in offering aid." She looked up as someone spoke from outside the range of the holoprojector. "As much as we might wish to prolong this conversation, we are urgently needed elsewhere. Good day to you, Detective Vic Bruno. Daggon. Melanie."

"She always talk about herself in the plural?" Vic asked after the hologram had faded. 

"Only in front of men she is not related to," Cole said, shrugging. "Enixians have very strict customs about interactions between the genders."

"Shit, I insulted her, didn't I?" Vic asked, shaking his head in irritation. So that was why Cole had been laughing...

"No, you _proposed _to her, Vic," Cole said, failing to suppress his smile. "It's okay, though. I don't think her other husbands would appreciate her taking an alien to her Hearth without discussing the matter with them first. She would not be so inconsiderate of their feelings."

"Other husbands?" Vic asked, blinking. "As in more than one?"

"Four still living," Cole told him matter-of-factly. "Also seven children, twenty-three grandchildren, and thirteen great-grandchildren. I believe her oldest great-grandson is about your age."

"Shit," Vic muttered, shaking his head and laughing softly. It really _was_ funny in perspective. He had just proposed to an alien old enough to be his great-grandmother. He wondered what Maria would have said to that one. "Open mouth, insert foot. Uh, just so I don't do it again, how did I end up proposing to the woman?"

"You addressed her as 'miss'. On Enix, married females are always referred to as 'matriarch', except by intimate friends or relatives. In calling a married woman 'miss', you express your desire that she no longer be 'matriarch' to you," he explained.

"Ah. That makes perfect sense," Vic lied, nodding. 

Mel smiled faintly, taking pity on him. "What did you need to talk to Cole about?" she asked. 

"Oh, I was hoping he might have some insight on a case."

"I am always glad to share any information I have," Cole told him, offering him a chair. "What has happened?"

"A woman checked into the emergency room this morning with several symbols cut into her back, I mean a few inches deep. She refused to say how they got there. It was weird."

"So you immediately thought of me," Cole teased, smiling faintly. 

Vic shook his head. Mel had been right. Cole's sense of humor might have been hard to pick up on, but he was good. Once you could tell when he was teasing and when he was serious, which, admittedly, was not always easy, he was a _very_ funny man. Of course, Vic could not be teased without bantering right back.

"Actually, I _immediately_ thought of the Blair Witch Project, but you were a pretty close second, buddy." He shrugged. "I was wondering if you had any fugitives in the habit of cutting open their victims and then driving them to the emergency room."

"No." Cole shook his head faintly, frowning. His stomach was starting to churn. "It is very unusual behavior. Do you have a picture of the symbols?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Vic nodded and produced a glossy photograph, a close-up of the injuries. "Uh, Mel, you might want to..."

"Vic, I've probably seen worse on my own body in the past two months," she pointed out flatly.

Vic winced. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Mel shook her head. "I just... I'm not some delicate female you have to protect."

"I know. You're the one who'd be protecting me if it ever came down to it," he pointed out, laying the picture on Cole's desk.

"God," Mel whispered, shaking her head. There was no way those geometric shapes were put in at random. They flowed too smoothly. Lines and angles that sharp should not have been capable of flowing, but they did. It was almost unnatural. 

"Was this woman a member of your people's military?" Cole asked quietly, absently tracing one finger across the image. 

"Yeah, as a matter of fact. A Lieutenant Colonel, Doctor Kelley." Vic frowned. "How did you know that, Cole?"

"Ayjata thera ayjata," Cole answered, tapping the picture. 

"Blood repays itself in blood," Mel whispered.

"Lana," Vic sighed, shaking his head. "Damn. This is bad."

"She will not kill anyone," Cole announced after a moment's thought. "But you may expect to see more cases such as this one."

"Vindictive _bitch_," Vic muttered.

"They were torturing her, Vic," Cole pointed out. "She could have died. She considers herself entitled to be revenged on them. Until their membership in the Alliance, Vardian law would have allowed her to exact revenge by torturing them as she was tortured."

"You sure she won't kill any of them?" he asked, shifting uneasily. "I mean, because otherwise I am coming up with a cover to get an APB out on her right now..."

"You honestly think she'll allow herself to be taken alive?" Cole asked, shaking his head. "She was killing members of your Special Forces, a trained extraction squad. What chance could human police stand? No, Vic. She will not kill them. Zin promised."

"_Bastard!_" Mel snapped, shaking her head. "We trusted him."

"Never trust a Vardian," Cole answered quietly, shaking his head. "We had no other choice. The promise I extracted from him will prevent him from allowing Lana to kill any of her captors, but he will not prevent this revenge. I wouldn't be surprised if he held her down for Lana."

"Why isn't Kelley talking?" Vic asked. "Just because of how she and Lana knew each other?"

Cole shook his head. "I think she doesn't want to end up committed for telling the truth."

"What? Someone carved her up! Why would they commit _her_?" Mel demanded.

"Lana used her claws. She was in her true Vardian form."

"The giant, gray, saber-toothed, talking cheetah?" Mel asked, shaking her head. "God, no wonder the woman isn't saying anything..."

"That'd be an interesting police-sketch," Vic said softly. "She actually did that with her _claws_? You're sure?"

"Yes, Vic. You can tell by the angle and depth of the cuts. They curve slightly inward just under the surface of the skin."

He nodded weakly, feeling sick to his stomach. He could not imagine what it must have been like for Kelley. He was not sure he _wanted_ to.

"And you're sure Lana won't let thing get out of hand?" he pressed.

"Does that look to you like the work of a psychopath, Vic?" Mel asked quietly. "Like someone who's getting carried away by the moment? She may be a lot of things, including evil and probably insane, too, but she's an _in-control_ wacko. I have to give her that."

"She is that," he agreed with a sigh, nodding. "There's not a damned thing I can do to stop this, is there?"

"No, Vic." Cole shook his head. "I am sorry."

"Thanks," he sighed, shaking his head. "Look, I've got to run now. I have to file this."

"We let this happen," Mel whispered when he was gone, staring down at the picture and rubbing the small of her back. "If it weren't for us, this poor woman would never have gone through this."

"I know, Mel," Cole sighed, gathering her into his arms. "But we did what we had to. We can not risk a full-scale mobilization by your authorities. They can never be allowed to get proof of our existence here."

She sighed and nodded, leaning into his warm chest and taking comfort. "Those who dance with the devil eventually get burned," she whispered. "My grandmother used to tell me that. Things always come back to bite you in the ass. That's how she put it when she didn't think I could hear." She shook her head. 

"She was a very wise woman from everything you have told me of her," Cole answered. "She reminds me of Eijan. Eijan says that the greatest evils in the universe are the necessary ones." 

"That's not very comforting."

"It is not meant to be."

"Oh." Mel sighed and buried her face in his chest.

"She also says that light can only be realized as beautiful in the dark and the cold." 

"Cold comfort," she muttered, shaking her head and looking up at him. "Tell me it's okay, Cole. Tell me that we did the right thing." 

Cole tightened his gentle hold on her, burying his face in her hair. "It was the right thing, Mel. It was the _only_ thing..."

**The End**

  



End file.
